Finding the Way Home
by BEM96
Summary: After a horrible, life shattering few days on an away mission gone wrong, she must recover her life, and her friendships. Story is complete- Chapter 28 posted10-14. Chp. 29 on 10-15 Now 30 is up! It's finished!
1. Lost 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A note to my readers- This is a huge departure for me, and I would not be expecting a chapter a week by any far stretch of the imagination. But I have written the first section of the story and I am curious what others think of it, or if I should continue. I think this is the hardest part for me to write, so if I got through this part okay, then I ought to be able to finish it, given enough time.

It is not an easy, totally fluffy story, and has some dark themes, so I rated it appropriately. It will not be everyone's cup of tea and it is necessary to get through this hard part to go forward. Feedback will be essential for me to get through this, because it is not easy to write. I will need to step away from time to time to keep my mind from going to a dark place.

_**Captain's Log- Supplemental**_

_**We remain in orbit around Galia Prime. The Ambassador and his staff are safely aboard the Enterprise, but it was not accomplished without cost.**_

Captain Picard kept a purposeful stride as he walked toward the quarters of his first officer. His first instinct had been to summon Commander Riker to the bridge, but he had thought twice about that. His Number One had been beating himself senseless for almost four days. He knew what torture these last few days had been for him and how he took all the responsibility on himself. The least he could do was relay this information to him in a more private setting.

Captain Picard hesitated outside his door. The truth was that if Commander Riker was going to blame anyone for the current situation, he should be blaming his captain. Riker had never wanted it. It was Jean Luc Picard who had insisted. Would Will finally now place the blame where it belonged?

The captain took a deep breath and pressed the chime on his first officer's door. For a long moment there was no answer.

"Come in," his first officers voice finally called and the doors slid open before him.

Jean Luc was struck to see his first officer. He had sent him off the bridge that morning, ordering him to get some rest. Clearly he had not. For the first twenty four hours, from the moment that the doctor had healed his scratches and scrapes, he had not left the bridge, as he and Data and Geordi had led the efforts to break through the planet's shielding and find any sign of their missing officer.

"Captain," Will Riker said rising from his chair as his commanding officer stepped inside his door. His uniform was wrinkled, his hair unkempt, but it was his eyes that showed his deep fatigue, both physical and emotional, the captain feared.

The Captain stood studying the man before him for a moment longer before he spoke. "We've found her, Will," he said simply. "She's outside the central city. Data is monitoring her life signs. She appears to be stable."

Commander Riker's eyes closed only for a moment, before he returned his gaze to his commanding officer. He swallowed hard, trying to control the emotion in his voice. "Is there a plan for retrieving her?" he asked.

"We're going to need to discuss that," the captain said. "Observation lounge, twenty minutes."

"Aye, Sir," Riker replied, still standing obediently before his captain. Jean Luc hesitated for a moment, allowing his first officer a moment to ask any other questions he may have had, but Riker remained stoically silent.

Jean Luc stepped forward and put a reassuring hand on his first officer's arm. "We WILL get her back, Number One."

Will only nodded in reply. He could not trust his voice, and his captain seemed to understand that. With a nod of his own, the captain turned and left.

The moment the doors closed Will sank back into his chair and resting his head on his folded arms on his desk. He could feel the tears begin to slip down his cheeks. In twenty minutes he would need to focus, to be the commanding officer that everyone in the room would expect, but for this moment, he simply let himself feel. She was alive, at least for now.

"Data, what have you found?" the captain asked as they began the meeting. Data stood and walked to the rooms main view screen activating it. A map appeared and Data began his briefing.

"To begin, I would like to remind all of us that the information from our sensor scans are very limited due to the planet's shielding technology. But this is what we have been able to determine." Data turned back to the map. "The life signs that we have identified as Counselor Troi are emanating from here, outside the central city. We believe this to be a less industrialized suburb, from what Ambassador Greer has been able to tell us," Data indicated the former Galian ambassador who sat alone at the far end of the table, "but the conditions and level of technology or weaponry is unknown. They seem to have taken her in the opposite direction from the embassy, which we originally believed would be the militant's destination of choice."

"This would lead us to believe that either they have no intention of negotiating for her return, or they do not realize who they hold," Worf chimed in from his seat at the table.

Data nodded in agreement.

"And we are sure this is her?" Riker asked. "I know the readings are limited. How sure are you that this is Deanna?"

"As you know, Commander, the bio readings for the Galians are too genetically similar to Human for us to distinguish through the shield grid. However, Betazoid DNA differs enough to be recognizable, even through the multi phasic shield harmonics. What we have found is Betazoid DNA. Dr. Crusher has also been able to distinguish it as female."

"But it may not even be Deanna," Will cautioned.

"Will," Dr. Crusher said reaching over from her chair and placing her hand on his arm. "We have no knowledge that there is any other Betazoid on the planet. It's female DNA and it's not a complete pattern, meaning that the person is likely not fully Betazoid. It's Deanna, Will. It's got to be."

"I agree with the doctor, Commander," Data spoke. "I believe it highly improbable under the circumstances that there would be another individual on this planet with these specific genetic markers."

"Is there a way to compare the read outs to the counselor's DNA profile in the computer?" the captain asked trying to ease his first officer's concerns.

"No," Dr. Crusher shook her head. "I already tried. There just isn't enough there. And what we do have has been scattered across the shield grid and then pieced back together by Commander Laforge. Captain, I am confident that this signature we have found IS Deanna Troi."

"I'm sure you are, Doctor. I just do not want to send a rescue party into harms way to chase a ghost." Captain Picard sighed as he looked around at his crew. Riker was not the only one looking warn. Beverly was barely containing her emotions any better. She was agitated, but Jean Luc knew her well enough to recognize fear when he saw it in her eyes. "Let's presume for the moment that this is in fact Counselor Troi," the captain continued as he turned back to Data. "How do we bring her home?"

"The original away team beamed into a seam between two shield generators, here," Data pointed again to the map. "I believe the theory was that the caverns below the surface, where the ambassador and his staff were being held, would serve as a shield in and of itself. However, as soon as the transport was complete, the Galian militants began to adjust the shield harmonics to cover the gap that had been left."

"They reacted faster than we thought," Geordi interjected. "We were lucky to be able to beam back through the seam at all, and we were barely able to contain the transporter beam to be able to get the last of the original group off the surface."

"We didn't get the last of the original group." Riker said tersely to the chief engineer with a glare.

Geordi immediately regretted what he had said. "No, Sir. We didn't." Geordi hung his head, in apology.

Data continued. "The reconfiguration has left another gap. It is located here," Data indicated a spot on the opposite side of the central city from Deanna's location.

"Traveling through the central city would be suicide," Ambassador Greer spoke for the first time since the meeting began.

"I can alter the crew's appearance to allow them to blend in," Dr. Crusher offered.

"I don't care what you do to them. They won't make it. The militia has set up checkpoints all over the city. You might fool one or two, but not the ten or twelve that you would have to pass through." The ambassador was terse. No one could blame him after the last few months of being caught on a planet erupting in civil war.

"The ambassador indicated that this may be a problem," Data continued. "To avoid the vast majority of check points, the safer rout would be to beam in here, and then take a rout around the perimeter of the city, like this." Data showed the group the path.

"That would take them through the mountains," the captain commented.

"Yes, Sir," Data acknowledged. "I would also recommend that no more than one person be sent through the seam. It is possible that one transport pattern would go undetected. More than one is sure to alert the type of security scrutiny we wish to avoid."

"How long would it take from transport in to Deanna's location?" Riker asked anxiously.

"Approximately two and a half days on foot," Data told him.

Riker felt his stomach sink. "Data," he said. "She has been down there nearly four days already. There has to be a better way to get to her."

"Once she has been located, we can equip the recovery officer with a transport beacon that we will configure to penetrate the shield harmonics and we will be able to beam up through the shielding. It will alert all of their security sensors, but once the counselor is safely recovered, we could be out of orbit in a matter of moments. There would be virtually no threat from their planetary weapon systems."

"They clearly have been unable to detect our presence from our current orbit," Worf added.

"I would agree," the captain said. "Geordi, how long before the transport beacon would be calibrated?"

"I could have it ready in…six hours."

"Doctor," the captain turned his attention to the doctor. "Could you adapt Commander Data to appear as much like a Galian as possible?"

Dr. Crusher nodded.

"Captain," Riker interrupted impatiently. "I want to be the one to go," he said plainly.

The captain hesitated.

"Data would be much more helpful here on the ship helping calibrate the transporter matrix through the shield grid," Riker tried to justify his actions.

"Number One," the captain began. Will knew what he was going to tell him, that they would talk about this privately.

"It was my away team, Sir. It should be me. I left her there."

"You made a command decision," the captain tried to diswage his guilt.

"I want the opportunity to fix it, Sir. I want to bring her home and have it be alright. Please give me that chance."

The former Galian ambassador spoke again. "No offence, Commander, But she is not alright. Let's not kid ourselves. If she is in this town, she is being held by Galian civilians. The militants may have seen a political advantage to her, but I am not sure that those patrolling the caverns were more than neighborhood thugs. If she is with civilians she is no more than any other female to them. Property to be sold or bartered at will. I have watched this society deteriorate over the last two years into religious fanatics and power hungry heretics. The fact that they are pulling away from space exploration and becoming xenophobic has to be viewed as a benefit to the rest of the sector. They are not ready for the idea of space travel. It would have been better for them had they never achieved warp drive."

The ambassador sounded more bitter with each word. He looked up to see the shocked faces of the Enterprise crew. "Forgive me, Captain. I want you to recover your lost officer. I do. But I want you to understand what she has most likely been through in the last ninety-four hours. This is not the planet that the federation established diplomatic relations with fifteen years ago. They were mainly well educated, experiencing a type of technological renaissance. In the last few years, the rich and powerful have only increased their power and driven the rest into abject poverty. The female population has been forbidden to be educated. They have literally been driven from society. I, for one, am glad to be off the damned rock. But your ship's counselor should never have been there at all."

"She was there to afford us the very best opportunity to rescue you and your staff, in the impossibly small time window that we were given, Ambassador," the captain spoke forcefully, rising from his chair.

"I don't think you understand, Captain, the gravity of the situation for her. In the last year I have seen a young woman, no older than fifteen who dared go to the market without a male family member to escort her. Her father cut off her right hand with a sword. Then he branded her skin with a vulgar sign to show the rest of the community that she was disobedient. Three months ago, we had a woman about the same age as your officer come to the embassy begging for sanctuary. She had attempted to escape a marriage she never consented to. When she was caught with no male escort, she was dragged home. Do you know what her punishment was? She was gang raped by her husband and every male member of his family, including her own thirteen-year-old son. If your counselor was found by civilians in those caverns, with no male family to claim her, she will have been traded like no more than a stock animal and treated no better. Being held as a political prisoner, in this case, was the more civilized alternative. The militia does not extend often to the region that you have indicated. I'm sorry for what that means for her."

His words rang through the room. Each member of the senior staff letting the words he spoke and the truth that they carried affect them in their own way.

The captain's heart raced and he tried to slow his ever growing more labored breathing. To his right, his first officer sat with his head bowed, his eyes shut tight as if he could somehow close out the meaning of the ambassador's words. His jaw was clenched and his hands were in fists resting on the table. Captain Picard knew at that moment that certainly on his ship, perhaps in the entire universe, there was no one more determined to bring Deanna Troi back safely than was his first officer. As a captain, he was not sure it was the right choice, but as a man, he knew he owed his friend this much.

"Doctor," he said softly. "Take Commander Riker to sickbay. Alter his appearance in any way necessary."

Dr. Crusher looked back at her captain, slightly taken aback by his change in position, but nodded nonetheless.

"Captain," Data spoke again, returning to the table to sit with the rest of the staff. "The ambassador does bring up an ethical dilemma."

"What is that, Data?" Riker asked puzzled.

"If Commander Riker were to locate the counselor and simply activate the transport beacon, the militia will have the exact location of the penetration in the shields."

"If the militia can identify a village, they will assume that they were sympathizers. They won't ask questions. It will be a blanket massacre," the ambassador confirmed.

"What difference will that make to us?" Worf asked.

"Lieutenant," Data said turning to Worf. "However we may disagree, if these are civilians holding Counselor Troi, they are acting as their culture and society would deem appropriate. To allow innocent civilians including unnumbered women and children to be executed…"

"It would not be revenge, Worf," the captain spoke quietly from his seat.

The room was silent for a moment.

"If I got out far enough, back into the hills," Will offered. "Before activating the beacon."

The captain nodded his agreement.

"Not too far into the hills, Commander," Geordi warned. "The same iridium deposits in the rock that kept us from transporting through the rock of the caverns could be in areas of those hills. It would disable the beacon."

"You will have to go in as family," the ambassador offered. "A husband she ran away from…something. You will have to have some claim on her."

Will nodded his understanding.

"You will be asked to identify her, prove that you are who you say you are. Does she have any distinguishing marks, perhaps, something he could use to claim ownership of her?" The question was directed to Dr. Crusher, but Riker stepped in to answer.

"Yes. It won't be a problem." The simple statement stopped everyone in the room. It was the stark reminder that the woman he was about to try to rescue was more than a colleague, more than a friend. She was more than any of that. She had been much much more than that.

"Could you pull off being a brother?" the ambassador asked.

"Why?" Will asked concerned.

"If you are her husband, you will be expected to punish her, claim her." The sentence died in the still air. Will looked away from the ambassador, unwilling to share his reaction to his words.

"You had better play the part Commander, or they will execute you for stealing their property and none of you will ever see her again. She will disappear. No amount of sensors will find her again." His words were a challenge. It was clear that he hated everything about the place he had just been rescued from and that he doubted that anyone in the room had the stomach to do what would be necessary to get their colleague back.

Will Riker swallowed hard against the bile he felt raising in his throat. "I'll do what I have to do."

"Even after you identify her, they may insist on you buying her back, especially if she has already changed hands from those that originally captured her."

"We can make sure he has an appropriate currency," the captain added.

"They won't let you have her the day you identify her. You will have to stay in the village for the night and retrieve her the next morning. It is the custom. You can't even buy a book and take it the same day. You certainly can't do it with a person."

Will sighed heavily fighting the tossing of his own stomach. "So even after I find her, we will have to stay another day?"

"You won't have her with you. You will need to leave her behind."

"What?" Will asked. "For them to do whatever they want with?"

"It is to show that you find them honorable. You pay and then show your trust by walking away. It is what is done."

"I DON'T trust them!" Will bellowed

"And they are most certainly NOT honorable!" Worf added.

"Go in with that attitude and you'll never make it out of the neighborhood, Commander." The ambassador stood from his chair. "I know that you don't like what I'm telling you," he told the group. "I don't like it myself. I am sorry for what has undoubtedly happened to your friend. I am only telling you what I can to help in the only way I can in the effort to retrieve her from hell."

"We are grateful for the assistance, Ambassador. Even if it is not what we want to hear. Thank you," the captain told him, rising from his own chair and standing while the ambassador walked out of the room. When the doors had closed behind him, Jean Luc Picard sank back into his chair and looked at the faces of his crew. "Is there any other way, Data?" he asked desperately.

"Not that we have devised, Sir."

Jean Luc dreaded looking over into the eyes of his first officer, but he found that Will's gaze met his with fierce determination. "Six hours," he said with a nod and the senior staff was off. The only two who did not move were the captain and his first officer.

They sat and waited for the room to empty. "Are you sure, Number One?"

"Yes Sir."

"Will,"

"I can do this, Captain. I need to bring her home."

"None of this is your fault, Number One. These are the risks that we all assume…"

"Captain," Will Riker interrupted him. "No one assumes the risk of what she is going through. And I was in command of the away team. If it's not my fault then whose is it? Hers?"

"Mine," Jean Luc said quickly. "The ambassador was right, as were you. I should not have asked her to beam down to a planet that I knew was so hostile to women. You were right, Number One. I was wrong, and she has paid for my decision." The captain paused and looked out the portholes at the planet below. "We will keep an open Comm. link with you as long as we can. The shield may interfere."

"I understand."

"Dismissed," the captain nodded to him as he turned to leave. He knew that he had to let Will do this, and in these particular circumstances, he may be better suited than anyone else on board, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that the Deanna that Will was risking his life to find would never be the same Deanna Troi that Jean Luc had sent on the away mission four days earlier.


	2. Lost 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters

To my readers- Thank you for all the wonderful feedback. I find myself hesitant to post what I have written in fear of disappointing you. I hope it is worth the read. Someone said they were "Dying" for the next chapter, so here it is. I can't take that kind of pressure. :)

**ONE WEEK EARLIER-**

Captain Picard emerged from his ready room. "A word Number One?" he asked before disappearing back inside.

Will Riker stood and followed his captain into his office. "Yes, Sir?" he asked.

"Have a seat." The captain indicated a chair across from his desk. He continued as Will took his seat. "I just received new orders. We are to change course and proceed to Galia Prime, warp 8."

"Aye Sir," Will said beginning to rise from his chair.

"There's more," the captain cautioned. Will sat back down. "The situation is bleak. The ambassador and his staff have been removed from the embassy. The militant's have gained power. They have taken over the central city."

"Why did the federation leave the embassy open for so long? It seemed inevitable that this extremist movement was gaining momentum." Will asked curiously.

"It was the thought of the federation leaders that the embassy remaining open and operational would lend credibility to the more centric government."

"But they were clearly loosing power."

"Have lost power, Number One. Those that are still alive are in exile."

"Our mission?" Will asked, though he had a suspicion that he knew the answer.

"Locate the Federation ambassador and his staff and bring them safely to Star Base 115."

"Do we have any idea of their location?" Will asked. The captain shook his head. "They didn't happen to have rescue plans with those changes in orders…" Will asked the captain with a mischievous grin.

"Change course, Number One," the captain answered. "Then take Data and Worf. Learn everything that you can. We'll be in sensor range by tomorrow afternoon. We'll need a plan by end of day tomorrow."

"Understood Sir," Riker said again rising from his chair, ready for the challenge ahead of him.

The three members of the senior staff had worked tirelessly the rest of the day and into the next reading everything they could about Galia Prime and its recent political upheaval. Will found himself morbidly fascinated by the fanatical religious movement that had been no more than an minor undercurrent nearly twenty years before when the planet first achieved warp drive, but had now risen to power and domination of the society. It reminded him vaguely of something in earth's history. By the time they arrived within sensor rang of the planet, they were beginning to formulate a plan.

….

"Number One," the captain called after his first officer as he, Worf, Data and Geordi exited the ready room after having just briefed the captain on their rescue plan.

Will lingered while the others exited the room. When they were alone, he stepped back to the captain's desk where he sat. "Yes Sir?"

"One question for you," the captain said.

Will nodded.

"Your away team consists of you, Mr. Worf, and three of his security officers?"

"Yes, Sir. Lieutenant Robins, Ensign Tau, and Lieutenant Corderas." Will told him.

"And how large are these caverns?"

"Approximately 3 square kilometers."

"And you will have twenty minutes to get in and out?" the captain asked and Will nodded. "And you don't know where exactly the ambassador and his staff are located?"

"No, Sir. We have the transmission from the former foreign minister that they are being held in the caverns, somewhere. But it is likely that once we are through the shield grid that we will be able to distinguish their life signs from those of the Galian guards. If you have a different recommendation, Sir…"

"No, Number One. I am not second-guessing your plan. I only wonder why, under the circumstances, you would not include Counselor Troi in your away team. She may be able to locate them far better than our technology will allow and with the limited time restraints…"

"I'm sure we have it under control," Will said tugging on his uniform tunic as he stood.

"Three square kilometers, five people…"

"I would prefer to keep the away team at a minimum."

"And apparently all male," the captain added with a raise of his eyebrow.

Will knew he had been caught. "Captain," he began.

"I am aware of the situation on the planet, Number One,"

"If she were to be separated or captured," Will said,

"I also understand that her unique abilities make her singularly suited for a place on the away team and if she were a man that she would have already had the assignment." The captain paused and watched his first officer's reaction. "So the question is, is it professional discretion that has made your decision, or personal attachment?"

"She would be in more danger than any of the rest of the team if she were to be lost."

"Well, then don't loose her. Besides, I happen to have the utmost confidence in my officers ability to handle themselves in difficult situations." The captain paused. "She is going, Will."

Will Riker hung his head. He knew his captain well enough to know when his mind was made up. The discussion was over. "Aye, Sir. I'll make sure she is briefed."

"Good. You'll leave in 20 hours." Jean Luc looked back at his first officer. He could see the disagreement in the tight line of his jaw, but he would not argue the point further. Jean Luc only hoped it was the right decision. "Dismissed," he said and Riker turned and walked out of the room.

....

It was only eleven hours until the away team would depart for the planet's surface on their rescue mission. Will was still plowing through every piece of information he could find on the typography and culture of the planet he would set foot on for the first time in only a few hours as he sat at his desk in his quarters. He had informed the away team about the change in plans, and Worf had shared his reaction.

"I do not believe that her presents is necessary," Worf argued.

"I agree, Lieutenant. But the captain does not."

"She may be a distraction," Worf said quietly. "I, for one, will be concerned for her safety."

"Again, I agree. But the captain believes that she will be key in finding the ambassador's location."

Worf had not argued again. He had only nodded and had gone on to inform the other members of the team.

Will didn't know if he felt better or worse about Worf agreeing with him so thoroughly. He had been trying to convince himself that his fears were unfounded, but it now only nagged at him more.

His door chimed and he looked away from the typographical map in front of him. "Come in," he called.

The doors slid open and Deanna Troi walked in and smiled at him casually, then without a word of hello, walked over to his couch and settled in. "So," she began nonchalantly. "Want to talk about it?"

"About what?" Will asked, leaving his desk and following her to where she sat.

"About whatever I did or didn't do to make you not want me on your away team."

"You're on the away team. I don't know what you're talking about," Will shrugged. He didn't know why he bothered, she knew him too well for that.

"I am, but not by your choice. So, do you want to talk about it?" Her voice was neither angry nor accusatory, just simple and matter of fact.

Will leaned back and sighed. "Have you read the briefing?" he asked. She nodded slowly.

"Have you read how women are being suppressed, abused…"

Will was surprised when she reached out and took his hand. "I read it, Will. I believe that I understand the situation. I also believe that I will be able to help find the ambassador."

Deanna looked at her friend and smiles gently. She took his hand that she held and put it in her lap. "Do you believe in me, Will?" she asked.

Will sighed and returned her smile, taking his free hand and lightly touching her face. "I always believe in you. I just worry about you and your safety. Is that so wrong?"

Deanna squeezed his hand tighter. "Having my friend worry about me and want me safe? No," she told him with a caring smile. "Having my commanding officer hesitate to allow me to do my job because he is concerned?" Deanna made a questioning face. "Maybe."

Will shrugged helplessly again.

"Okay, here's a question for you," she said settling in against him. "Would you hesitate to let any female officer to be on the away team? Or is it because it's me?"

Will thought about Deanna's question. "I'd hesitate with any female officer on THIS mission," he told her. Then he took another deep breath. "But I am worried that I'm not gonna get any sleep tonight thinking about it because it's you," he told her honestly.

Deanna smiled at him tenderly and with understanding. Then she leaned in and kissed his cheek. "It's going to be fine. We beam in, get the hostages, and beam out. By this time tomorrow we will be sitting on this couch, sipping hot chocolate, adding this to our list of many adventures. You'll see."

"I have to sip hot chocolate too?" Will asked looking light hearted for the first time since Deanna had walked in.

"You can drink what you'd like."

But Will's smile was short lived. He stood and walked to the window gazing out at the planet orbiting below. "Does it bother you at all that half that planet is being held hostage, and we are only going down to rescue eighteen of them?"

Deanna stood as well and walked up behind him. She slowly reached up and rubbed at his shoulders. "We can't take every female off the planet. Will, this is a culture that will find its own way. We can't fix it."

"We're not even trying."

"The federation did try, in their own way. That's why the ambassador was still there when they took over the embassy." Deanna stepped around him to stand between him and his window. "Why is this bothering you so much, Will? What makes this different than the hundreds of cultures that we come in contact with that differ drastically from our own?"

"I don't know," Will answered, but Deanna looked back at him and arched her eyebrow. "Maybe it's because they seem to be going backwards instead of forward. I really don't know. I just can't shake this bad feeling about this."

"There are still a lot of variables in your plan, some we won't have answers to until we are there. It's leaving a lot of uncertainty." She reached up and ran her fingers through the front of his hair. "Get some sleep, Will. It'll be morning before you know it."

"I just wanted to take a look at this topographical map," he said moving back to his desk.

"You have looked at the map. You almost have the map completely memorized. Get some sleep. This is going to be no different from situations that we have been in a dozen times before." Deanna began to walk to the door. "Good night, Commander," she said smiling at him and the doors slid open and she walked away.

…

When the transporter beam faded, the away team stood in the glaring sunlight of Galia Prime. Without a word they took off towards the entrance to the caverns. The caverns were so dark as they entered that they had to pause to allow their eyes to adjust.

"The caverns break off in four main veins from here," Worf said.

Lieutenant Robins scanned with a tricorder. "Sir, I am picking up human life signs, but I can't detect their exact location. Definitely one of those two veins," he said hesitantly.

Will looked over at Deanna and saw her eyes were closed.

"I don't think the whole group's together." She paused. "This way," she said walking forward.

"Do you have any idea of their condition?" Will asked following after her.

Deanna shook her head. "I don't sense pain as much as fear, but I can't tell anything more than that."

The group made its way down the cavern's paths, pausing twice to avoid heavily armed groups of Galians.

"Commander," Deanna put out her hand to stop Will as he passed her. "The group of them is down that way. I think the ambassador is further this way."

"There is a human life sign down that cavern, Sir," the lieutenant agreed.

Riker paused and quickly calculated in his head, how long they had already been in the caverns and how long it would take them to retrace their steps with eighteen others, some of whom could be wounded. Quickly he pointed at the three junior security officers and then to Worf. "Get the main group out," he told him. "The counselor and I will try to find the ambassador."

With a nod, Worf and his group split away from them and Commander Riker and Counselor Troi took off down the other path leading in the direction that Deanna indicated. They did not speak as they went, but their adrenalin was running high as moment by moment they went deeper into the maze of caverns. After several more minutes they came to the end of the path with three smaller paths in front of them. Deanna silently nodded her head to the left, and Will was right behind her. But as they took a couple of steps down the path, they heard a cry of pain and then voices moving towards them.

Deanna's eyes were wide as she concentrated on the person they searched for, but Will quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back and into the middle of the three tunnels, pushing her tight up against the wall. He felt her body stiffen with tension against him and for just a moment, the officer was gone, and Deanna bowed her head and leaned into his chest as the group of armed Galians walked past them, heading down the cavern towards where they had left Worf and his security group to get the ambassador's staff.

When the voices disappeared into the echoes, Will stepped back and looked at Deanna intently. For the first time, he saw a hint of fear.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "They just assaulted him," she said getting back to work. "I think he's unconscious."

They raced down the left path again until they came to an alcove. Deanna pulled Will by the elbow, indicating this was the place. It was so dark in the alcove that it would have been easy to miss him, and Will's tricorder readings were faint at best. The ambassador lay unconscious on the ground. He was badly beaten.

Will knelt by the man's side and scanned him quickly. "I think his legs are broken," he said. "But I think he's safe to move."

When he looked up, he saw that Deanna's attention was not on the ambassador, but on the path outside.

"Deanna?"

"We've got to get out of here," she said, looking hastily around the room.

"We'll have to see if we can follow the same path out," he told her as he bent over the ambassador. Will shook the ambassador slightly. "Ambassador Greer," he said as the man's eyes drifted open. "Ambassador, I am Commander Riker of the USS Enterprise. We are going to get you out of here."

"My staff," the man mumbled.

"We are getting them out as well. Can you stand?" Will tried to help him, but the man quickly collapsed under his own weight and again lost consciousness. Will picked the man up, draping him partly over his shoulder and turned back to Deanna. "Come on,"

"No, Will. Not that way. There has to be another way out." Deanna was looking around frantically.

"What is it?" Will asked her.

"They must have found the staff pulling out. I think Ensign Tau is wounded. Will, there are too many of them. We'll never make it out. There has to be another way."

They both glanced around in the darkness.

"Okay," Will told her. "This way. We'll have to hurry. We're running out of time."

The two took off deeper into the caverns with Commander Riker carrying the still unconscious ambassador. As they ran they could hear the chorus of voices building behind them. The screams reached a crescendo and the two of them realized that the guards had reached the alcove where the ambassador had been.

The guards were gaining on them, having the distinct advantage of knowing the lay of the land. Soon they could hear and see the lights fill the cavern from weapon discharge. Commander Riker scrambled for a place to find cover. He turned into an alcove and made sure that Deanna was right behind him. But when the Galian weapon discharged, there was no hope of either of them staying on their feet as the energy blast surged past them.

Will heard the cracking as the rocks above them gave way to the energy blast. He instinctively took the ambassador's limp body and pushed it forward, taking Deanna plowing forward with it. The arch of the top of the cavern came crashing down and Will felt a stone rip through his arm as he was thrown from his knees face down in the ground.

Slowly the dust began to clear and Will looked up to find Deanna scrambling towards him, still covering the ambassador's body.

"Will," she called.

Will Riker tried to push himself up using both his arms, but his right arm buckled underneath him and he crashed back to the ground. "I'm alright," he said, pulling himself free of the remaining debris. He could feel the blood trickling down the side of his face.

"Your arm is broken," Deanna told him helping him sit up.

"No, it's just dislocated at the elbow." Will winced as he stood. "The ambassador?"

"He's still unconscious, but no worse than when we found him." Deanna looked at the pile of rock that now mostly blocked them from the group of militants. "How far does this go back?" she asked pointing to the make shift rock wall.

Will only shook his head. "Don't know. But they have bigger weapons than ours. It won't take them long to break through."

"What was that?" Deanna asked referring to the weapon's discharge that had brought the walls of the cavern down around them.

"Nothing I've seen before," Will said brushing himself off. "Some sort of plasma discharge, I would guess." Will struggled to lift the ambassador's body again. "We've got to get out of here," he said. "They must be rescrambling the shield grid."

The two looked desperately for a way out. "Did you notice as we were running that we were gradually going uphill?" he asked her.

"Not particularly," she told him honestly. "I was a little occupied by the people trying to kill us."

"I think we're close to the surface," he told her as he continued the only way that was now available to them.

Deanna was right behind him. "Wait," she cried. "What is that?" she said pointing off to the side.

"That is sunlight!" he said pulling her towards the light further down the path. They could already hear the blasts of the Galian weapons blasting against their momentary sanctuary. "Help me," he said as he put the ambassador down against the stone wall and pulling his phaser from his hip.

Deanna took out the phaser she carried as well. The light was just barely able to filter through the rock face in the corner of the natural alcove's ceiling at least 20 meters above them. "We can blast a larger hole," he told her. "But we'll have to climb the wall to get out." The wall was rough and sloped.

Deanna didn't hesitate on her own account, but she looked back at Riker. "Will, can you? With your arm and carrying the ambassador?"

Will nodded. "Aim for the light. Level three. Ready?"

Deanna nodded and the two of them together blasted the ceiling with phaser bursts for almost five seconds, before the rocks started to tumble away. It left them a gap to crawl through that would have to do. Both of the officers holstered their phasers and began the climb, the ambassador slung over the shoulder of Will's bad arm as he grasped the rocks with his left. Deanna climbed in front of him. Her hand slipped once on the loose gravel from the collapse they had created.

Will's hand was immediately on her back, steadying her. But the voices were growing louder behind them. "Keep going!" he said urgently. They grunted and pulled their way up the wall towards the light as they heard rocks crashing and weapons firing from where they had come. They heard sudden shouts and heavy footfall. The militants were through the barrier the avalanche had caused. "We're not gonna make it," Will admitted just as the cavern light up with the discharge of weapons. Will tired to reach for his phaser, but without grasping the wall and with the weight of the ambassador on him, it would be impossible for him to get a shot off.

"Keep going!" Deanna told him, pausing and pulling aside so he could pass her. Her phaser was already aimed behind them. Will looked her in the eye, as he pulled level with her. "Go!" she told him. There was another blast of weapons fire from the Galians and Deanna fired back. She continued to inch her way up behind where Commander Riker climbed while holding off the weapons fire.

Finally Will reached the top of the cavern and placed the ambassador's body on the ground. He could see that they were not too far from the transport sight, just down the hill, but there was no sign of Worf or his team. He pulled himself out of the hole as well and then reached back in. Deanna was so close, firing her phaser at groups of armed Galians on either side of the alcove.

"Deanna!" he called to her. "Give me your hand!"

Deanna looked up and for the first time realized how close she was to the surface. She let go of the rock face and lifted her hand towards Will's outstretched one. But just as their hands brushed one another there was another blast from the same plasma weapon that had caused the original cave in. Will felt the wave of energy before he heard the crack of the weapon's discharge and it was as if everything slipped into painfully slow motion.

Deanna's body was first pushed against the rock face and then as if on a rebound, she was blasted away from the rock's surface. Will made one drastic attempt to grab on to her hand, but it was too late. He watched as she tumbled from the side of the rock face, hitting against the jagged rocks as she fell, first her shoulder and then her head before he heard the deafening thud of her body hitting the ground face down and unmoving.

The Galians were pouring out from where she had held them at bay, gathering around her body. They were shouting, though Will could not make out what they were saying. He quickly grabbed his phaser and took one shot before he realized that in the dark of the cavern he could just have easily been hitting Deanna with his weapon as anything else.

Fighting the panic inside him, he tapped his communicator.

"Riker to Data," he paused. "Data, I've lost Deanna. Can you lock onto her signal from here? We need to get her out of here!"

There was only static as a response at first. "Neg…ve…deposi…shield gri…must transpor….meediat…read…" was all he could make out.

He looked down at the unconscious ambassador and continuing as if his body knew what to do, though his mind was far from it, he hoisted the ambassador onto his shoulder again and ran down the mountain to the original transport sight. He would get the ambassador off the surface and go back for her. He would find a way. But as he reached the sight, he felt, more than saw or heard, the transporter beam encapsulate him and his cargo.

_NO!_ He thought, almost fighting the pressure of the beam around him, but it was no use. The planet was vanishing in front of him.


	3. Lost 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

To My Readers: Okay, just for Ardra and Kariker- NO DYING! I can't take that kind of responsibility! And so close to Christmas! It would be a tragedy. Though, maybe that would fit in with the story...No- NO Dying. (And yes, I am aware that you're mocking me) I have this and one more written, but I can't keep up at this pace, so once they are over, be prepared to slow down. :) Happy(ish) reading. Love the feedback. Without it, I would not continue.

**Chapter 3**

For the second time in a week, Will reached up to block the bright light of the Galian sun as he materialized back on the planet. He followed the path he had memorized directly into the light from the sun until he met up with the dirt road that led into the rough mountains.

He carried a pack on his back containing some food, water, some money and hidden in an inside pocket the transport beacon that Geordi had configured to break them through the planetary shield. There had been no uproar upon his arrival so far and he hoped that his transport had gone undetected. His steps were deliberate and even as he headed around the perimeter of the central city.

Within an hour he had come to the first checkpoint where Galian militia lined the sides of the roads, heavily armed teenagers, from the looks of them, as well as Galians from all walks of life. It would appear as though the checkpoint had become a gathering place for the village, or perhaps the source of the local entertainment.

"Where are you headed?" the young man asked him.

"Toliva," Will repeated the story he had memorized. "My father's family originates from there."

"Why do you return?"

"They have provided me a wife."

The young man looked Will over. "And where do you come from?"

"Kamreen."

"And where is your allegiance?"

"To my god," Will answered him with as much conviction as he could muster.

The young man nodded and Will continued past the other armed militia members. He looked around at the people surrounding the checkpoint. They were all male. Cowering in corners he saw glimpses of the black shroud worn by women, with no more than a small opening for her eyes, the rest hanging loosely around her body, as if to hide who or what she was all together. But even completely covered, the women were not members of the society. They were hidden in rooms, unable to move freely.

Will ran his hand along the ridges along the back of his opposite hand. He hated the idea of being altered. Every time he did it, he felt uneasy in his own skin, like he wasn't himself. But he would do whatever he had to for Deanna.

"Wait, traveler," a young boy called after him as he continued along the path. Will turned to look at the boy. He could not have been more than fourteen. "You travel on foot, through the mountains to Toliva?" he asked.

"Yes," Will answered.

"You are dressed like a man of means. Why would you not have an urh?"

Will wondered what an urh was, until the boy continued. "My family has many urhs. We would sell you one, gladly." The boy gestured to a pen of livestock back against the hills. It was full of animals that Will would have described as similar to horses on Earth. Except their heads were smaller and their necks longer. It also appeared that their nostrils were on the sides of their neck instead of on their faces. They appeared to be interesting animals. He looked around the pen and saw another man slipping on to the back of one of the animals as another was tied with a load on its back. They rode off and Will noticed the way that the animals were controlled. Looked like a horse to him.

"How long would it take me to reach Toliva by urh?" he asked the boy, hoping he did not sound too ignorant.

"You could be there by late morning," the boy told him. "Come with me. My father wants to talk to you."

Will hesitated but eventually the idea of getting to Deanna in half the time was too tempting and he followed the boy into a home to the side of the pen of urhs and built into the side of the mountain.

The room was large and amazingly clean for the dust outside. The boy lead the way into the home and a large man entered behind him. The man was quite a few years Will's senior, but he looked strong, imposing. He closed the door slowly and lowered a heavy bar to secure it behind him.

Will felt his adrenalin start to pump. He was trapped.

"Traveler," the large man said. "I am Gault." His voice was light and friendly, but then his face grew dark. "Who are you?"

"I am Trav, of Kamreen," Will stated.

"Yes and you are traveling to Toliva," Gault said. "My family originates from Kamreen as well. Perhaps we are of a similar heritage," he began walking towards Will and held out his hand.

Will tensed as the man neared him, then he moved suddenly and grabbed Will's wrist.

Will immediately pulled away defensively, but the man only loosened his grip and turned his hand palm down, out to Will.

"You are not from Kamreen. Your ridgelines are wrong. Close," he told him again showing him his own hand. "So close that you will fool those young militia members with ease, but I know that you are not from Kamreen. So, Traveler. Who are you?"

Will hesitated.

"Would you like me to tell you who I think you are?"

Will tried to laugh. "Please," he said.

"I think you are not a Galian. It is not just your ridge pattern, but your jaw line and your skin tone is too light. I think you are a human. I think you are from the Federation."

Will stood still, saying nothing.

"Batra," the man called. "I will take a step of faith, Traveler," he told Will. "Traveler, this is my wife, Batra."

The woman cautiously entered the room, keeping her eyes fixed on Will. She was wearing a simple dress, her long dark hair dancing along her back. There was no covering on her, no hiding. She walked willingly to her husband's side and took his hand, proudly standing by his side.

"So, Traveler. I have given you incriminating evidence of where my loyalties lie. It would be a crime punishable by death for my wife to show her face to a man outside of her family. I love my wife very much. I do not endanger her lightly." He watched Will for a moment longer. "I am Gault of Kamreen. This is my wife, Batra. You also met my son, Torvan. I also have a daughter, Shaule." He now gestured to Will. "And you are?"

Will considered for a moment. Perhaps he shouldn't have, but he found himself trusting this man that stood proudly next to his wife, without hiding her or disrespecting her.

"I am Commander William Riker of the star ship Enterprise."

"You have come to rescue your ambassador?" Gault asked.

"He and his staff are safely aboard our ship."

The man's wife sighed with relief. "Oh, thank you! They told us that they had killed them all! They executed them!" Batra spoke for the first time. She shook her head. "That's where they got her. She was rescuing them?" she nodded, as if it wasn't quite a question.

"There is a woman, some say that she is not Galian. There is a rumor in the underground that she is in Toliva. We cannot get her out. They want too much. None of us can draw attention to our families like that," Gault told Will.

"They would want our daughter in her place. She is only twelve," Batra cried. "Forgive us, Commander. But I will not sacrifice her for your friend."

Will was struck by their words. "I would never want you to do that," he assured the woman. "Neither would my friend. She would never recover from that." Will looked around the room and saw the young man who had led him here hovering in the door with a young girl. She looked much like her mother, though she hovered shyly. "My friend, what else do you know about her."

"She was alive yesterday," Gault told him. "That is the last I heard. She is not held by the militia, only a village leader's family, one of his sons, I think. He bought her from the guard that claimed her first in the caverns."

Will reacted as if someone had hit him hard in the gut. His eyes snapped to the floor to try to cover his reaction from the rest of them, but his breathing grew labored.

Batra came to him and put her hand on his arm. She turned back to her husband. "Gault!" she chastised him.

Gault bowed his own head. "I am sorry Commander. Rape and claiming of women has become a fact of life in our culture over the last few years. It has lost its edge, but there is no reason that you would have had that same experience. I apologize," Gault said simply.

Batra stood close to Will trying to comfort him. "This woman, you are close?" she asked him quietly.

"Yes." Will's voice was no more than a whisper as he nodded.

"She is your wife?" she asked again.

Will weakly shook his head. "No."

"You must get to her as soon as possible," Gault told him. "We will give you an urh. You will be to her tomorrow, but you should go."

"I don't know anything about the animal and I could not bring it back to you," Will tried to explain.

"That does not matter," Batra explained. "This is something we can do. We look for any way that we can fight the military regime."

"The urh will take care of herself," Gault told him. "Torvan," he called to his son. "Get his pack and load up a female, she will let him lead."

Torvan nodded and headed for the door.

"A young one, Torvan. He will need speed." He turned back to Will. "If anyone asks, you paid us five hundred plat. It is more than she is worth, but it was to show us respect as you could not delay your journey and left with the animal the same day of your purchase."

"Thank you, but I do not want you to endanger your family."

"I will not allow my family to be endangered, Commander. But I will also not sit ideally by while people with hate in their hearts crush the culture that I love."

"So you resist," Will commented.

"I have hope that my daughter will walk freely down the street. I have hope that my wife will practice medicine again. I have lost my culture, Commander. I may never see it again in my lifetime, but I believe that my son may again walk in my world, that my daughter can have that hope. So I resist. And I help you as I can."

"I am grateful, Gault of Kamreen," Will said taking his hand.

"I ask only one thing of you."

Will hesitated. He didn't know that he could make a promise of the Federation's assistance.

"It is not more than you can give, I assure you," he reassured him.

"What is it you request?" Will asked.

"When you find your friend, I want you to pass on a message from my family."

Will was stunned, but nodded. "What is your message?"

"That I am sorry. My family and I ask her forgiveness for the harm that our brothers have caused her. We are not all the way that she might think we are. She will be hurt and angry, and that I understand, as so many of our sisters are and have been. But we ask her forgiveness, that it is my hope that she may someday return to this world to find it healed of the hatred that now consumes it. Tell her that. And tell her that Gault of Kamreen is sorry for what she has been through, that I beg her forgiveness."

Will fought the lump he felt in his throat, fought his own guilt as a blameless and innocent man stood before him asking forgiveness for something he had not done, with no anger or malice, but gentle kindness. How different this world must have once been. "I will tell her," he finally replied.

"Now, go. We shall most likely never meet again, Commander. But when you think of this world, remember my son, my daughter, not just the violence that awaits you," Gault said leading him towards the door.

"You know your way?" Batra asked him. "And you have what you need? She may be injured. Do you have medical supplies? Any medical training?"

"Yes," Will told her. "You are a doctor?" he asked.

Batra nodded. "A surgeon. I was."

Will paused and looked around the home. "Thank you for your concern. I hope that it will not be long until she can be treated by one of our doctors," Will told her as he reached the door.

Batra took both Will's hands and kissed the palms of each. "I wish you speed and peace on your journey," she told him before turning and taking from the table a black shroud and disappearing underneath it as the door opened.

Will mounted the animal with some trepidation.

"Remember what I have said, Trav." Gault spoke to Will.

"I will," Will replied as the animal walked steadily from the pen and out along the path.

He looked back to see Gault watching the last outsider he was likely to see for quite some time ride away. Batra stood shrouded behind her husband, her head bowed. _How many hostages are there on this planet?_ he asked himself again. But as he turned back to the path in front of him, his mind focused on the one he would risk anything to save.

Will rode along the path into the night until the clouds blocked the light of the three Galian moons. It was too dark to follow the path, and the terrain was growing too rough to try to guess what was in front of him. He slid off the back of the animal and tied its reins to a nearby shrub. There was a stream trickling by and the animal drank hungrily and then munched on some nearby foliage.

Will stepped further away and sat of the ground. It was not cold enough to need a fire and he would rather not draw the attention to himself. It was late into the night. Finally Will just placed his pack behind his head and tried to take a few moments to sleep.

He wasn't even sure that he had fallen asleep when the dreams replayed in his mind, reaching out for her and watching her fall. That was the dream he had every time he fell asleep since it happened. That was where he usually woke with a startle, but now the dream continued.

Was she unconscious when the first guard _claimed_ her? And when did _claiming _become a nice euphemism for rape? How many had raped her in the cavern? And how long before she woke to find that Will had abandoned her?

Will was dripping with sweat, panting when he awoke, images still ripping through his mind. There was just an inkling of light on the horizon, but it was enough for him to find his way again. He did not eat, simple remounted the animal and continuing on his way. He rode for several more hours when the path began to lead out of the hillsides and towards a more industrialized area.

He slowed at another checkpoint, this one with only one guard, though the size of the weapon he carried on his shoulder was certainly enough to get his point across.

"I am Trav, of Kamreen," he told the man without being asked. "I have heard that someone in your village has captured my wife."

The guard stared blankly back at him.

"She was found fighting the militia guards, I believe. She ran away two months ago. She is…troublesome."

"Mortain." The guard said. "He is the third structure past the water hole. You should leave your urh there."

Will nodded gruffly.

"He did not know she belonged to someone. She spoke of who she was in riddles. The man from Garven that brought her said she had hit her head."

"I am not interested in your explanations. I am interested in retrieving my property and returning to my home and responsibilities." With that, Will turned and headed in the direction that the man had indicated. There were a few men mulling around the village. The market appeared to be on the other end of town, and with it most of the activity. He was happy to avoid as much of it as possible. He tied up the urh near the other animals and proceeded on to the house.

He was fighting the instinct in his gut to burst in, find her and take off. He followed the path up the steps and listened at the door. He could hear footsteps and activity, but when he knocked, there was no answer. He knocked again.

"Who are you?" a man called from behind him.

Will spun around to face the man. "I am Trav of Kamreen. I have come to retrieve my property."

"Mortain is not there. He is a merchant. He is at his stall. Why do you seek him where he is not?" the man asked him.

"I only went to where the guard directed me. My wife ran away. I understand that he has," Will fought his desire to choke on the word, "claimed her."

"The woman is your wife?" the man asked. "We thought perhaps that she was an off worlder."

"She is my wife, regardless of her continued disobedience."

The man walked towards him. "She is not here. It would be improper to bring something like her, to be bought and sold, into his home with his children."

Will felt rage flush through his veins. "She is not to be bought or sold. She is mine. And I demand that she is returned to me."

"You would retrieve her after her insolence and treason?" the man asked Will puzzled.

"She is mine to do with as I please. How she is punished is not your concern."

"I am Rameek, father of Mortain's first wife. I will take you to him."

"The woman inside is your daughter?" Will asked.

"Yes, but I no longer see her. She is not my property."

"She is not your family?" Will asked puzzled.

"Mortain is my family. I was most fortunate to have a daughter to catch his eye when the time came. Mortain and his father offer me…protection and prestige. I am a fortunate man."

Riker fought back his natural response and instead echoed his words. "Fortunate," he repeated. What had happened to this world? He followed the man into the market place to a larger shop, though much of it was still made of tents.

"Mortain," the man said approaching a man about Will's age and build. "This man seeks you. He is Trav, of Kamreen. He claims that you hold his wife, claiming her as your property."

The bustle of activity around the men stopped. The man Will assumed to be Mortain stood and studied him. Will kept his own glare fixed on the man, but he also took in the scene around him. There were more than twenty men around as well as countless barrels of different dried foods. Several of the men were armed, some more subtly than others. Will did not break his stare and did not speak first.

"Trav, come and join me," Mortain bowed slightly and gestured to a chair at the table where he returned to his own seat.

Will cautiously strode forward. "I would like an answer to whether or not you hold my property," he said firmly.

Still Mortain continued casually. "Tell me, Trav. How is it that your property ended up placing us in such a predicament?" He waited, but Will continued to glare. "It is told that she was found in the caverns on the outskirts of the central city fighting with the guard,"

"My wife escaped almost two months ago. Where she has been and what she was doing is a mystery to me, until a few days ago."

"It took you two months to locate this woman?" Mortain asked skeptically.

Will paused. "I did not immediately pursue her. I had other more pressing matters to attend to. But she is my wife, none the less and I would like her returned to me," he said trying to be diplomatic.

"Does she not bare you children?" Mortain asked. "You would not seek after their mother?"

"I do not choose for her to carry my children. I do not see her rebellious nature as a good virtue in raising young."

"You have other wives?"

"Yes, but this wife serves a different purpose."

"Yes," Mortain nodded. "She is beautiful, and fierce. She is a challenge. I find it exhilarating."

"So you will return my property to me?" Will said feeling a bit ill over the conversation that he was taking part in.

"I paid handsomely for her. I should not be put out by your lack of control of your domain."

"How much did you pay? I will double it for your inconvenience."

"Six hundred plat, but even though it has just been three days, I am loath to loose her…companionship."

He was fighting against his own adrenalin. How was it possible that he was carrying on a casual conversation with Deanna's rapist? "Well, twelve hundred plat ought to ease your burden."

"And how do I know that you are who you say you are?" Mortain asked him. "Identify her to me."

This is what Will had been prepared for. "She carries a mark slightly above and behind her right hip. Here," he said pointing the area on his own body. "It is an unusual shape."

Will's mind drifted momentarily to a long time ago, Deanna lying on her back, on the ground next to him in the jungle. He was caressing her skin softly, kissing her shoulder blades, and simply enjoying the feel of her. That was the first time that he had noticed the small mark high above her right hip. It was just slightly darker than the rest of her skin. His first thought was that it was shaped like Alaska, the state he grew up in.

"What is this?" he had asked her teasingly.

"Uhh," she said moving his hand away and putting her head sleepily back into the crook of her elbow.

"Well, this just proves it," Will said chuckling, rubbing his hand across the mark and the small of her back as he lay back down next to her. "We were meant to be together."

"What?" Deanna said chuckling. "My birthmark proves that how?"

"It's shaped just like Alaska."

"What?" she asked. Will nodded back at her. "You can see a state on Earth in my birthmark, but nothing in 'globs of paint'?"

Will shrugged. "Maybe I could give the paint blobs another try."

"Mhh Hmm." Deanna put her head back into her arm. "And how does this prove we are meant to be? Did I miss the connection?"

"I grew up in Alaska," he told her. She giggled. "See," he said pulling her against him. "You were marked for me from the start."

"You are a ridiculous man," she told him.

"You are an amazing woman."

…

Will took his finger and leaned down and drew roughly the shape of Alaska in the dirt at his feet. "It looks like that," he told the men around him.

"Karva," Mortain spoke to a man just to Will's left. "Go verify our friends words."

Will noticed the smug smile that played on the man's face as he began to walk towards the back of the shop area. He couldn't help but feel that this man was going to put Deanna in danger.

"And Karva, identify the mark and no more. She is still mine until I tell you otherwise," Mortain told him. The man nodded dutifully but the smug smile was gone, and Will took a deep breath in relief.

No one spoke or moved while Karva disappeared to the back of the shop. It was killing Will that he was so close to her and yet so far away. Then his stomach began to churn with doubts. What if the mark was not there? He had not actually seen it for several years, and even the last time he saw it, it had blended into her skin more than he had remembered.

They had been on shore leave with some other members of the senior staff and Deanna's bathing suit hung low across her hips. It had made him smile when he saw his small Alaska on her skin. But it had been faint. Perhaps it was that the rest of her skin was tanned from the sun's rays, or maybe it had lightened over the years. But he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't known what he was looking for. Or she could have had it removed at any time. It would have been just a simple laser treatment. She had seemed uncomfortable when Will first noticed it. He thought again about how she had moved his hand away as he had traced it's shape with his fingertips. What if it was not there? What then? Or worse, what if this was not Deanna at all?

The silence was broken by Karva's footsteps, descending stairs and then he was walking back to Mortain.

"It is as he described," he told the man who so clearly was the leader of the group. Will relaxed slightly.

"Then I will take your twelve hundred plat and you can return tomorrow to and retrieve your property," Mortain said smugly.

Will couldn't tell if he was pleased with the deal he had just made, or if he just truly enjoyed ordering those around him.

"No." Will's words again caused the slightly relaxed atmosphere of the shop to tense. "I will need to see her for myself."

The group reacted as if this was ridiculous.

"I want to ensure that my property is undamaged."

"You will not reclaim her until I have been paid," Mortain sneered at him, leaning over his table at him.

"I will identify her myself," Will told him with equal determination.

The two stood glaring for a moment more before Mortain consented. "Karva, take him to her. He is not to touch her until you see twelve hundred plat in front of me. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Karva spoke.

"Go," Mortain gestured for Will to follow his lackey. "Make your identification."

Without a word, Will followed the man to the back of the shop and up the small staircase. There were several rooms above the shop and Karva lead him to the one furthest from the street. When he opened the door, Will had to bite his own lip to keep from letting out the gasp that he felt inside him. The room was small, cramped and dark. The smell was something he couldn't quite describe. There was a window on the opposite wall from where the huddled mass laid in the corner, but it was small and dirty, keeping the room in a shroud of darkness. There was no furniture, no bed. Only the rough wood floor under his feet.

Deanna laid on her side, her back to him, her legs curled up in the fetal position. There was a dirty blanket laying around her and she wore only a light sack of a gown that ended just below her torso. The side of the gown was pulled up, still revealing her thigh and hip where in the slim light Will saw the shape of his state slightly darker than the rest of her skin. She appeared to be unconscious, as he stepped towards her. Then he saw that both her wrists were tethered with a leather looking strap that was anchored to a bolt in the wall.

He stepped up to her and began to bend down, but her heard Karva pull a weapon from his belt. He looked back to where he stood in the light of the doorway.

"You will not touch her," he repeated the command he had been given.

"She is wounded," he replied. "I will assess the extent of the damage." Will could see the hesitation in the man's eyes. He was weak. Easily manipulated. Will could see why he made an excellent follower for the would be leader of this town. Without another word he bent down to Deanna's side. He knew that Karva would not fire on him, but he cautioned himself to not treat her gently. She was a piece of property. Damaged goods. He had to treat her like it. He lifted her sweat-matted hair away from her face and took his first good look at her. Fortunately for him, anger fit his part, because there was no controlling it.

"What has been done to her? She has been beaten!"

"She was uncontrollable!" Karva defended himself.

Will noticed the way Deanna's eyes fluttered open with the sound of their loud voices around her, but her eyes remained unfocused and drifted closed again. Will quickly looked over the rest of her head. She did not seem to have a head wound that he could see, but she was certainly in an altered mental state.

"Has she been given something? A drug?"

"Mortain has been giving her fala root during the day so she would not disturb his business," Kava confessed. "When it wears off, she is fine."

Will moved his hands to her wrists. The rope was cutting into her skin and he began to loosen the strap.

"What are you doing?" Karva cried.

"These bindings are damaging her. This will scar."

Karva took one step closer to Will crouched by Deanna's side. His weapon was aimed. "You will not unbind her," he said.

Will understood that he had pushed Karva too far. His behavior was threatening to Karva's relative position of safety. So Will backed away. He had seen what he needed to. Deanna was here and alive. He would do what he needed to do bring her home. He stood gruffly and walked back to the door, willing himself not to look back at her. "I will speak to Mortain," he said heading out of the room, Karva on his heels.

"She is damaged!" Will roared coming back into the room where Mortain sat transacting business at his table. The rage was real, even if his words were contrived. "You drugged her, beat her, tied her up. The wounds to her wrists will scar!" Will stood across from him now. "You have damaged my property," he told him. "I will give you no more than nine hundred."

Mortain laughed. "I did no more than any other man. The wounds to her face and back were incurred before she was brought here and any scars that you find are a consequence of your lack of control over her. As for binding her, yes I did. Have you never bound your women? I find it to be the fastest way to break them. If you had, perhaps you would not be chasing around the countryside retrieving her. So it will scar…her hands are marred anyway," he said rubbing the ridge along the back of his own hand.

"If you do not want her, go away and let me do my business. Or come back in four weeks when I have had my way. Wait; give me six to break her. Then you can have her for three hundred. We all know I don't need another mouth to feed. Once she resigns herself, I will have no use for her." The rest of the men nodded and laughed in agreement. "Maybe I should untie her and drag it out longer. Tied up Rameek's daughter bent to my will in two." Will looked over to the man who had brought him here, and saw that he too laughed. "And now she runs my house, and her father sits at my table."

"And I am grateful," Rameek added.

Will felt as though he was going to loose his mind. This was sick.

"What is it you want?" Will asked gruffly.

Mortain sat down, slipping back into business mode. "I will not take less than ten," he said.

"Fine," Will consented. He would have paid a hundred times that, he only disputed because it was what would have been expected.

"Good," Mortain smiled. "As for the drugs, I am a business man. What else could I do? You didn't drug her or bind her? It's no wonder how she came to be here." He spread his hand across his table. "You deliver one thousand plat and you may go reclaim your wife in whatever way you see fit. When you are done we will dine together. When will you be leaving us?"

"Tomorrow morning at dawn," Will told him.

"That is not a full day," Rameek said pointedly.

"I have much business to attend to. I have been gone too long on this already," Will said exasperated.

"Dawn," Mortain agreed. "But not a moment before. I will have her bathed and wounds dressed for your journey. She should be ready after morning meal."

Will shook his head. "Not after morning meal. First light! I do not need her bathed and her wounds will serve her right. Just leave her as she is."

"As you wish. For a thousand plat, I would expect her clean," he said with a shrug. "Where do you stay?" he asked Will.

"I have not yet found a place," Will replied.

"Ah, Jep- you will take him in, yes?" Mortain asked one of the men behind Will.

"Yes, for another thousand plat," he answered and the room erupted in laughter. Will felt the man slap him on the shoulder. "If you've any money left, I'll take you to my inn for ten plat."

Will got the impression that the group felt he was being ripped off, but he didn't care. He reached into his pack and pulled out the thousand plat, placing it in front of Mortain at the table. Mortain seemed to agree with the group, He smiled from ear to ear. "Go claim your wife, Trav of Kamreen. You have certainly paid well enough for it," he said. "Karva, take him back to her. Make sure she doesn't leave the property before tomorrow's first light."

Karva nodded obediently.

"If I wanted an audience, I would invite them myself, Mortain. Do you not trust me?" Will asked.

"I am not required to show you the honor of trust, Trav," he said with disgust. "But seeing as how you have paid so generously, Karva will stand guard in the stairs." Mortain adjusted in his seat. "Go," he told him. "I have other business to attend to."

Without another word, Mortain turned away from Will and slowly Will walked away from the man, back to the stairs, with Karva following close behind him.


	4. Lost 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

To My Readers: Oh, I love the teasing. And I am even more happy that you are reading and wanting to continue to do so. I know it is hard stuff, but hopefully at the end (when I ever get there) it will not leave a bad taste in your mouth. This is the last chapter of the first section. I am now working on section two. I thought it would be easier to write. So far- not so much- so enjoy this and check back often, or alert it, because it will be at least a week, if not more until the next update. Happy Holidays, and please review! I am DYING to know what you think of it ;)

Chapter 4

Will and Karva ascended the steps in silence. When Karva stepped onto the landing, he spoke to Will. "She is too fierce for me without the fala root," he told Will. "Has she ever bit you?"

Will looked back, no longer sure if he was simply acting the part, or if he truly was insulted by the question. "No," he said as he stepped towards the door.

He glanced back at Karva and stared as if to remind him that Mortain said he would wait on the stairs.

"I will lock the door behind you. Simply knock when you would like the lock lifted." He pulled up the heavy cross bar and Will stepped back into the dark dingy room. With a nod, Karva closed the door behind him and dropped the cross bar back in place.

Will waited until he heard his footsteps fall along the stairs before he approached her unconscious body. For the first time in two days, he was not playing a part, but just being himself.

"Deanna," he said trying to gently stir her. Her eyes did not flutter, and her body hung lifelessly from his arms. He lowered her back to the ground and dropped his pack. He tapped at the communicator closed inside it.

"Riker to Enterprise," he said softly.

"We…ead you…mmander," Data's voice answered him.

"I'm going to try to evaluate her medical condition," he spoke. "She is unconscious, they said they gave her something called fala root. It appears to sedate her somehow." Slowly, he pulled the dingy stained sheet away from her and laid her body flat. "She appears to have several superficial bruising to the face and head. I don't see any sign of blood."

He slowly moved down her body. "There were marks on her neck where it appeared that she had been choked." Slowly, gently, he began to pull the light material covering her up from her body. He paused as the material pooled around her waist, showing him her bruised and blood stained thighs. He thought about who would be hearing the words that he spoke through the ship's communication system, and decided to keep that part of his visual exam private.

He moved the cloth up further, over her breasts. It looked as though she had been branded with a knife, somehow. "There are several cuts on her chest," he said. "They don't appear to be too deep." He could not let himself think too much about what he was seeing. It would kill him. He had to just do what was needed to get her out of here.

He rolled her gently back to her side, and the gasp that left his mouth was clearly audible across the communication system. "Oh, my god." It was no more than a whisper. He fought back his emotions, clearing his throat. "She has dozens of cuts along her back. They are red and pussy. They must be infected."

"W..ll," It was Dr. Crusher's voice that he heard. "Is…e runn… a fev..r?"

Will touched her forehead and cheeks with the back of his hand. "She feels more clammy than hot. I can't be sure."

"The…f..la roo…ay be…ting…as a fever….pressant…"

Will studied her face. "Her lips look dry and cracked. She must be dehydrated." He reviewed the rest of her body quickly, looking over her limbs. "Her hands have been bound. There are lacerations on both her wrists." He moved down her to look at her legs. "Her left ankle is swollen. It doesn't appear to be broken. I can't be…" Will's focus had been so complete in providing the doctor with a medical evaluation that he had not noticed Deanna start to stir slightly. Suddenly in the middle of his thought, he felt her other foot come in contact with his face, hard, flinging him away from her. "Ahh," he cried, being caught off guard.

Immediately he was moving back towards her. She was flailing and squirming, fighting against him however she could, scratching and clawing. "Stop," he said as he fought against her. "Deanna, stop!" He was concerned she would hurt herself more. He pressed his body over hers to weigh her down and put his hand tightly over her snapping mouth.

Her eyes were large, alert and panicked. He could feel her trying to fill her lugs with air to scream. "Shhh," he told her. "Deanna, it's okay."

Her eyes were darting around the darkened room.

"Look at me," he spoke softly. Still she did not respond. "Look at me, Deanna. Look at my eyes. Listen to my voice. You know me. You're safe now. It's okay."

Slowly her body stopped fighting against him and her eyes slowed and locked on his, so that they were looking deeply into each other's gaze.

"I'm going to move my hand now, and you aren't going to scream, okay?" he asked as if he were talking to a scared child.

She nodded with the little head movement he allowed her to have, and he slowly released the pressure over her mouth.

The Enterprise bridge crew could hear the sounds of her panting over the crackle of the communication, unclear of exactly what was happening on the planet. When her voice came through, it was if they all released their held breath.

It took a moment of her breathing heavily against him, staring into his eyes as he slowly pulled the weight of his body off her. Then she slowly opened her mouth, and in no more than a harsh sounding whisper, she cried. "Will?" she asked as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"I'm right here," he said wiping her tear for her. "We're gonna get you home." He reached back into his bag and took out his container of water and put it to her lips. "Try and drink this," he offered.

She took a few ragged sips before she began to cough and sputter.

"Let me get your hands untied and you can sit up." He noticed that Deanna's eyes looked away from him for the first time, down to the floor as if she were ashamed or embarrassed. He took his hands away from the strap and lifted her chin to look at him again.

"You are going to be okay now. Do you understand? Everything's alright."

Her eyes closed and more tears spilled down her cheeks.

Will tried to untie the cord from the wall, rather than her wrists, knowing that it would hurt to press into the deep cuts and also knowing that he would have to tie her up again before leaving her. He heard her wince every time he moved her arms and shoulders until he managed to free it from its bolt. Now her wrists were bound together, but she was no longer tethered to the wall. Gently, and vary aware of the condition of the wounds on her back, he lifted her enough to sit, propped against the wall.

"Do you want to try to drink again?" he asked her and she quickly nodded. He handed the container of water to her and she sipped at it gingery, water trickling down her chin, as Will wiped her sweat matted hair away from her face.

When she put the water back on the ground next to her, Will tried again. "Do you know where you are?" he asked gently. He knew that the communication link was still open and that Beverly would be looking for information on her cognitive skills.

She closed her eyes and did not answer.

He decided to start with a simpler question. "Can you tell me your name?"

She looked up at him, almost annoyed. "Deanna Troi," she answered, her voice hoarse.

"What about my name?" he asked again.

"William T. Riker," she said looking at him again.

"What ship do you serve on?" he continued his quiz.

"I am the ships counselor, and commander on the Enterprise. Happy?" she asked.

"Do you know where you are?" he asked again.

She shook her head slightly. "Galia Prime," she finally said.

"How did you get here?"

"We were bringing the Ambassador up to the surface," she told him. "We were almost there, but something happened." She shrugged. "I blacked out," she finished. They sat in silence for a moment.

"Will," she asked. "How long have I been here?"

"Almost six days," he told her. "Are you in any pain? Are there other injuries?" Will was quick to change the subject from how she had been left behind.

She just shook her head and reached out and pulled the filthy sheet around herself as if it were a protection. Will noticed that she was starting to shake, to shiver, even though the room was almost unbearably stuffy.

"Deanna," he said. He placed his hand back across her forehead. "Oh, god. You're burning up."

"The tea," she said through slightly clenched teeth. "Makes the fever go away."

"It's drugged," he told her and she nodded. "You knew it was drugged?" he asked.

"All there is to drink," she said again, her teeth starting to chatter.

"What about food? When was the last time you ate?"

Deanna looked away from him again, down to the floor ashamed. Again he pulled her chin up. "Can you try to eat for me?" he asked. "Then I can give you something for the fever. I have a small med kit."

Deanna nodded weakly.

Will moved back to his bag and pulled out some bread that was wrapped inside and handed it to her. She nibbled at it gratefully as he rummaged through the med kit and loaded a hypo spray and put it to her neck. She winced and pulled away slightly, but Will dropped the instruments and pulled her close to him, to keep her warm until the medicine took affect. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her arms to warm her. Slowly she relaxed into him, resting her head on his chest as he murmured to her that she was safe, that he was going to take her home. Her breathing became deeper and more even as her body became heavier against him. She was not nibbling at the bread anymore.

"Dea," he said pulling away slightly to look at her. She looked exhausted.

"How are you here, Will?" she asked. "Why are we still here?"

Will sighed and looked away from her around the cramped room.

"You bought me back," she said rather matter of factly.

"The custom," Will began to explain. "Is that I need to leave you here, just until tomorrow morning."

Deana laid back on the floor and turned onto her side, away from him.

"Deanna," he tried. He could hear her beginning to sob quietly. "Deanna." She did not respond.

Will stood up and repacked his disguised med kit and bread into his bag and began to pace. He looked at her huddled on the floor at his feet and he realized he couldn't do it.

"Riker to Enterprise," he called again through his communicator. "Data, we're leaving now. Prepare the transporter."

"Co…nder. If you…eave from…side the village…massacre," Data's emotionless voice crackled back at him.

"I don't care, Data! I can't leave her here. Just do it!"

"No!" Deanna was sitting back up, wiping at her own tears. "Data?" she asked hesitantly.

"Couns..lor," Data replied.

"What did you just say? I couldn't understand you."

"If ..the..b..con….to be..activa…ed..the mali..a..wou…kill ev..one in ….illage."

Deanna looked back at Will as he stood peering out the grimy window at the back alley.

There were a group of boys running around behind the shops, no older than thirteen or fourteen and in his mind he pictured the young man he had met the day before, Torvan, and his family, his father and mother and younger sister as they sat in their parent's stairwell listening to them talk to this stranger, willing to sacrifice for the other's safety.

He saw Torvan's arm protectively around his younger sister. Suddenly he wondered if there were resisters in this town. There must be. That is how Gault had received word about Deanna. His activating the beacon in his hand would mean their death. He shook his head for a moment and looked back to where Deanna sat on the floor looking up at him with her large dark eyes.

"Data, you are breaking up," she said clearly and confidently. "Did you say that if the militia detects this beacon that Commander Riker is holding they will kill everyone in the village?"

"Yes," came Data's unbroken answer.

The two of them stared at each other across the room. "You came down here with a plan?" she asked Will.

He nodded. "Yes," he answered her softly.

"And it was to buy me back and in the morning get out of the village before transporting out…to protect them from the militia?"

Will nodded again.

Deanna closed her eyes and began to breath heavily. "Then stick to your plan, Commander," she told him. "Tie me back up," she said as she choked back her own sobs.

With one movement, Will was back, kneeling next to her. "No," he said. "No. I can't."

Deanna nodded as tears streamed down her face and her chin quivered. "Yes, you can," she said with every confidence she could muster. "You can, and you will."

Will held her tight to him as they cried together.

Back aboard the Enterprise the bridge crew heard the stifled sobs and sniffs through the crackling silence. None of them knew if the tears were the counselor's, the commander's or both.

Captain Picard looked to his left where his chief medical officer sat in what would usually have been the counselor's chair. Her head was bowed slightly and he saw her wipe at her own tears. The captain felt his own eyes fill with tears. He knew then that he did not give his ship's counselor enough credit for her bravery and deep regard for others.

The others on the bridge looked around at one another. It occurred to some of them that they were somehow intruding on a very private, intimate moment between the two officers on the planet.

The sobs lessened to deep breaths, and Deanna pulled away from him, looking back into his eyes. "Tie the strap back up, Will. You have to." She watched him hesitate again. "Better you than them," she told him.

"I'm sorry," he said as he took the strap and tied it securely to the wall again. "Do you know who they are? Is there some way that I can protect you?"

"I'll manage," was her only response.

"There's more than Mortain," he said, and with her eyes down again, she nodded. "Dea,"

"I've been here six days and I'm still alive. They won't hit me or cut me if you've already paid."

"That's the least of my fears," he admitted.

"This village is filled with children. I can hear them outside in the evenings. And Women with no more say in what is happening in their lives than I have currently in mine. They don't deserve to be killed to protect me from something that has already happened…I don't know how many times. I stopped counting. One more night won't matter, Will."

She nodded to him and slowly he nodded in return. He ran his hand along her bruised face and kissed her fiercely on her now much cooler forehead. He looked back into her eyes. "I…"

"I know," she said, realizing that the communication link was still open and that she didn't really need to hear it. She could feel his love for her coming off him in waves. It was the only thing giving her the strength to do what she was doing. "Come back for me," she said as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

"I swear," he said.

"Couns..or," a static voice entered the room. It was the captain.

"Yes, Sir?" she asked.

" I wish..th..r…nother..ay," he said.

"I know," she told him. "I understand."

"It is go..od … you..r voice," the captain said. "Ent…prise out.."

The two were left in the room alone, looking into each other's eyes.

"It's okay," she told him.

"Deanna, I love you," he said uninterrupted this time.

"Please, Imzadi. Don't' say that. It makes me feel like you're not coming back."

Will lifted her chin to look into his eyes for the last time. "The only thing that could stop me from being here at first light is death itself. And I don't plan on getting myself killed. Okay? All you have to do is hang on for first light." He nodded at her and she nodded in return.

"Fist light," she repeated. Slowly he stood to walk out and leave her. "Will," she cried out. "I love you too," she said. "Just in case," she added. She then rolled over onto her side, away from the door, the sheet loosely clinging to her.

Will took a few deep breaths before knocking on the door for Karva to open it for him. He looked back one more time at her. He could see her back shaking and he could hear her soft sobs. He didn't know if this was her terror of the night ahead of her, or her holding up her part for the man who would be opening the door, but when Karva opened the door, Will strode out quickly, before he could change his mind, and Karva locked her in the room again behind him.

"She was quiet for you. Clearly, she has bent to your will," Karva commented as they descended the stairs together. It took all Will's strength to not punch him in the face. But he set his mind on his next task, and that was keeping Deanna as safe as possible until first light.

He walked back into the room of men milling around barrels of dried goods.

"And?" Mortain asked as Will made his way towards him. "I assume you found her no worse for the experiences she has had," he told him.

Will had more trouble playing the part now than he had before, but he knew it was necessary. "She was…not herself. Perhaps it is the fala root."

"And was that a better or worse experience?" Mortain asked.

Will only grunted.

"You will need her sedate for travel. I can't imagine that she is easily contained on the back of an urh." The other men laughed around him. "Come, it is time to dine. With a thousand plat to bring home today, we have much to celebrate."

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating and drinking, and drinking heavily. Will made careful efforts to appear to keep up with them drink for drink and to mimic the slur in their speech, but he didn't take more than a sip. They were served by shrouded women. They were a group of about twenty men in all.

By nightfall the men were making toasts: to god, to the moon, to urhs, to wives, to children, to wine. Whatever moved around them. And as the amount of drink continued, their tongues loosened and the demeanor relaxed.

As the room milled about, a man older than Will, who had been more sedate than the others approached and passed him what looked like a root of some kind. He slipped it quietly into his hand. "Fala," he told him in a slurred voice that did not match the clear look in his eyes. "It will sedate any who drink it. You just crush it, and it dissolves in liquid."

"For my wife on the journey?" Will asked cautiously.

"For…whomever you see fit," he said quietly. "You are Trav, of Kamreen. My family also comes from Kamreen, and Vore- I believe you obtained an urh from them."

Will stood still realizing this man knew exactly who he was. He was a member of the resistance. "Yes, I paid well for it."

"500 plat," the man told him. "You seem to be making a habit of paying too much for things," he cautioned him.

Will nodded. He had not repeated how much he was to have paid for the urh. No one had asked. Gault had told this man that. Will looked down to the root in his hand. "I crush it?" he asked.

The man picked up a knife off the table near them and though there was nothing on it, demonstrated how to crush the root with the side of his knife. "In liquid of strong taste, it will be undetected," he said firmly glancing at the wine goblets of the men that were mulling about the table in mostly drunken stupors. "Just a small amount should do what you desire."

Will nodded again, and the man patted him firmly on the back, slurring his speech and talking too loudly again, as he moved on to another in the crowd.

Will quickly and quietly went to work. By the end of the night, he had slipped a small amount of crushed fala root into the goblets of those closest to Mortain. He didn't dare drug them all, but he covered those that he thought posed the most risk to Deanna.

One by one, the men staggered home, and Will accompanied Jep to his home with rented rooms. He showed Will to his room, and staggered off to his own. Will quickly latched the door and went to the window and gauged where he was in the town. It did not take him long to place himself in relation on Deanna. He could even see her grimy window over the buildings that stood between them.

He closed his eyes and prayed to whatever god might be listening on this world or any other that she was safe. After a while longer and unable to determine anything from his vigil by the window, he dropped onto the rough bed and dozed in and out of sleep for a few hours.

When the first whispers of light came over the hills, he was off, finding his way to his urh, where he tied his pack and mounted the animal and rode towards the stall of Mortain. There was no sign of anyone and he waited impatiently letting the animals feet stamp at the ground. Finally the tent was drawn back and Karva and Rameek came out into the street.

"Mortain invites you again to join him for a morning meal," Karva spoke.

"It is first light, and I must go. I would ask my property to be brought to me."

"You are an interesting man, Trav of Kamreen." Mortain said stepping out of the tent as well, tucking his shirt into his pants. He looked smugly satisfied with himself and Will's stomach began to turn. He worried that he had not been successful in protecting her. "She is being shrouded by my first wife. She will be down momentarily. I made sure she was…ready for your travels," he said, a chuckle in his voice.

Will couldn't keep doing this. He was going crazy inside. Just as he was thinking of going after her, he saw the black of a shroud coming around the corner of the tent. There were two of them standing with their heads bowed and in panic, he realized he could not identify Deanna among them.

"Karva, help her mount," Mortain ordered.

Karva grabbed at one of the women and thrust her forward. When her head came up, her eyes met his and he sighed in relief, knowing that he was looking into his Imzadi's eyes. He also noticed the limp in her step as she walked forward on her swollen ankle. He reached down for her arm and Karva gave her a rough lift onto the back of the animal, groping at her bottom as he did it. Karva then lifted her arms, reveling the binding still around her wrists and slid the cord over Will's head and around his waist to hold her to him.

"You have been a good game, Trav. Feel free to come again looking for lost property," Mortain told him.

"Safe journey," Rameek told him more subdued behind his son in law.

With a nod, Will tapped at the animal and they started off away from the town, the way he had come in the day before. He felt how weak Deanna's body was against his back and he closed his hands tightly around her arms, tied around his waist. He nodded to the militiaman at the checkpoint and continued on his way until they were out of sight.

He was not far enough out of town to activate the beacon, but it was scaring him that Deanna was seeming more and more non responsive behind him. He stopped the animal and swung Deanna so, while her hands were still tied around his waist, she sat in front of him, now cradled in his arms.

"Deanna," he whispered to her. "Are you alright?" Here eyes were drifting open and then closed. "Deanna!" he said shaking her slightly.

"Ahh," she moaned in agony. She looked at him more purposefully. "Tea," she whispered.

"They gave you more fala root this morning?"

"Bitter," she said.

"More than usual?"

She was drifting off again in his arms. Her head came to rest on his chest. He rode on for several more minutes before he pulled the animal off the path and behind an outcropping of rocks. He reached down to his bag and pulled a small knife, the only weapon he carried, and with one motion, cut the cord that bound Deanna to him. Her arms fell loose and he carefully carried her off the animal and laid her in the shadow of the rock outcropping. He went back to the animal and untied his pack. He placed it next to Deanna and went to work unbinding her wrists. She winced as he pulled the cords to rid her wrists of them. Then he pulled her free of the black shroud.

To his surprise she was completely naked under the shroud. In the light of day, her injuries looked far worse. He reached into the bag for the beacon, but something stopped him. He looked again at Deanna lying before him, completely naked and vulnerable. She looked horrid. He just couldn't allow anyone else to see her like that. Quickly he grabbed his water and began rinsing her face and her hair. He wiped around the cuts on her chest to wipe away the dried blood and them moved down her body.

He stifled an angry sob as he saw the fresh blood running down her thighs. He poured the water over her trying to clean her and then wrapped the shroud around her body, like she would a towel. He looked back up at her face as he tucked the end of the material in and saw that her eyes were open and watching him.

He couldn't read her expression. He raised her head slightly and tired to help her drink the remaining water.

She thirstily gulped the water, but pulled away suddenly, then sat herself up more and turned her head and began to vomit.

Will held her shoulders and smoothed her now damp hair. "Shh. It's okay. Just a few more minutes."

Deanna gasped for air as the retching subsided. She leaned back into Will's arms and closed her eyes.

Will reached into the bag and tapped the comm. badge. "Riker to Enterprise. I am activating the transport beacon now." He picked up the beacon and slammed the tube into the ground, breaking a compartment on the bottom and causing the tube to glow with a chemical reaction. "Two to beam directly to sick bay."

"We…re…sear..ing for…beaco…Just..momen.."

Will scooped Deanna up into his arms like a rag doll, her head tucked against his chest, and he waited. And he waited. Just as he felt the panic start to overwhelm him, he felt the transporter beam closing around the two of them, and unconsciously he gripped Deanna tighter in his arms as if afraid that she would be left behind again.


	5. Found 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of its original characters.

To my readers: I hope you all had a Merry Christmas. Here is my belated present. I had a little trouble with my computer and worry I may have lost some of my edits. Still, probably no more typos than usual (which is probably a lot). And I lost what I had of 6 almost entirely. That didn't upset me too much, because I wasn't in love with it. Enjoy, I'll hope to have more in a week or so.

**Chapter 5**

The room appeared completely chaotic as Will gently placed Deanna's body on a bio bed. As soon as he released her, he was unceremoniously shoved out of the way as no less than seven members of the medical staff swarmed around her taking orders from Dr. Crusher. Will stood against the wall, trying to remain invisible, listening for words he did not want to hear.

"She's bleeding internally. Prep a surgery suite," the doctor spoke to her staff after a few minutes. As two officers stepped away, Beverly put down her instruments and looked over Deanna completely for the first time. She reached out and touched the bruised skin of her neck. "What did they do to you?" she asked softly, not expecting an answer.

"Is she okay?" Will asked, causing Beverly to jump slightly.

"I didn't see you," Beverly said. "Are you injured?"

"No." Will stepped away from the wall and towards Deanna. "They gave her that fala root this morning. I think more of it than before," he said running his hand over her hair.

"Will, we'll take care of her. She's safe now."

He didn't answer her, or even look away from Deanna, unconscious on the table.

An ensign bustled back into the room. "We're ready Doctor," she said stepping towards the bed.

"I'll bring her in, thank you." Beverly turned back to Will. "We need to move her now, Will," she told him gently.

Will bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You're home, Dea. I brought you home." The words were choked in his throat. For some unexplainable reason, he was more scared now than he had been the entire time he was on the planet. She looked pale, her lips dusky purple. "Beverly's gonna fix you right up."

Beverly put her hand over Will's on the bio bed. "She needs to get to surgery. Her liver is shutting down. Will, let me help her."

With a nod, Will stepped back and Beverly and a nurse were off, pushing Deanna's broken and battered body away from him.

Will moved out to the waiting area away from the main bay and slumped into a chair, his hands trembling. It was only a moment before the captain entered the room, eagerly taking in the scene.

"She's in surgery," Will said to him. He didn't stand, or do anything he should have when a superior officer walked into the room. He didn't seem to have the energy. He was exhausted.

Jean Luc Picard simply sank into the chair next to his first officer and nodded. "She sounded so strong yesterday," he commented. Will nodded in return.

A nurse peaked into the room and then stepped up to the commander. "Sir," she began. "Dr. crusher wanted me to look at your injuries."

"I'm fine," Will said motioning away from himself. "Just please, take care of Counselor Troi. I'm not injured."

"But, Sir. Dr. Crusher has all the staff she needs. Please let me look." She gestured to his abdomen. "You're covered in blood."

Will looked down at himself and realized that she was right. He had held Deanna's body so close to him. Her blood had soaked through the shroud and down his shirt. "It's not my blood," he said quietly still looking at himself. He turned his hands over and saw the ridges that the doctor had placed there, to help him blend in. He suddenly wanted to rid himself of anything Galian. "Can you take this off?" he asked rubbing at the ridge as if to wipe it away.

"I can," she told him.

He nodded; seeming to consent and the nurse guided him back into the bay.

It was almost twenty minutes before Will returned to the waiting area and found that the chiefs of engineering and security had joined the captain. Will was once again dressed in uniform, and he took the same seat next to the captain.

He seemed steadier now. The captain nodded at him again as he rejoined the silent vigil. The four of them sat in silence as the minutes stretched on.

After a while a nurse walked into the room. Will and the captain rose with anticipation. The nurse addressed the officers gathered. "Captain, Commander, Commander, Lieutenant," she said with nods. Then she turned back the Commander Riker. "Sir, Dr. Crusher asked me to tell you that she is just finishing up and that the counselor is stable. She should be in recovery in just a few minutes, but it may be an hour or so until you can see her."

"Thank you," Will said gratefully.

She turned and left the four alone again. The captain patted Will's shoulder reassuringly. "You did it, Number One. She's home and she's stable. Well done."

Will only nodded looking at the floor.

"She's gonna be fine," Geordi chimed in. "Dr. Crusher'll have her up and going…" he left the sentence unfinished. They each knew that it was going to take more than an operation to fix the damage caused over the last few days.

"You did what you went to do. You both did your duty. That is something honorable," Worf said stoically.

"Well, I'll be sure to tell her that," Will said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. He looked around and saw the captain and Geordi exchange a worried glance. "I'm sorry, Worf. It's been a long week. I'm dead tired. I didn't mean that the way it came out," he said running his hand through his hair.

"We're all worried about her, Commander," Geordi said quietly.

"I should return to the bridge," Worf said.

"I should get back too," Geordi agreed. "When you see her, tell her we're pulling for her," he said patting Will on the arm.

"You're not staying?" Will asked.

Worf and Geordi looked at one another and then back. "We will give her time," Worf told him and Geordi nodded in agreement. They said good-bye and the two left.

Will continued to pace the waiting room while the captain sat more composed.

Finally Beverly Crusher walked into the room and sighed. "They just about overdosed her on that root. It was shutting down her liver. Were they trying to kill her or are they just stupid?" Without waiting for a response she waived her hand behind her for the two of them to follow her into her office. She sat behind her desk and Jean Luc sat as well, but Will still paced nervously.

"How is she, Doctor?"

"Other than the liver and the obvious bruises and cuts, she has a serious concussion that had caused her brain to swell and bleed. We have stopped the bleeding, but the swelling will take time to go down. Her ankle had a fracture; her right kidney is swollen and bruised. I have put her on a diuretic to help it rest."

"Is that also a result of the overdose?" the captain asked.

"I would say that it was a result of a boot kicking her in the back, judging from the boot shaped bruise. It's at least five days old. She also has a raging infection. It started from the wounds in her back, but it's in her bloodstream now. It doesn't seem to be viral or bacterial. I am running some tests now. Until I know what it is, I don't want to close up the wounds on her back."

"What caused the wounds? Could that have something to do with the infection?" the captain asked.

Beverly placed a small vial on the table. It had some sort of metal spike in it. "I would guess it was some sort of a whip."

Will nodded in agreement.

"And it would appear that it was studded with metal tips. That was embedded in her back."

Will chimed in. "I would guess that the infection has more to do with the surfaces she was laying on with open wounds."

"Not sanitary?" Dr. Crusher asked.

Will shook his head and continued to pace. "You said she was bleeding internally," he asked her.

"There were several internal lacerations. I repaired them," Beverly tried to continue without noting the location of the injuries. "She's also severely dehydrated. We've put her on intravenous fluids. Once I get the infection under control and the brain swelling reduces, physically, she'll be fine."

"So, there's no permanent damage to…" Will asked.

Beverly shook her head. "What she needs is rest…her brain, her liver, her kidney, her body in general. We need to treat the infection and let her rest," she told them. "The swelling will decrease, the bruising will fade. I will figure out what is growing in her blood…the wounds will heal, the physical ones at least."

"Doctor," a nurse poked her head in the door and offered the doctor a PADD. Beverly stood and studied the information in front of her. "A fungus," she mumbled. "But not one that I've seen."

"Galian?" the captain asked.

"Well she wasn't vacationing on Risa," the doctor said sarcastically without looking up from her research. "The galian medical information we have is so backwards," she said as she continued to scan through data. "Commander," she said looking up. "Tell me what you know about this root, fala."

"They crushed it and it dissolved in her drink. Why?"

"They reference it as if it were a cure all. Need to sleep, drink some fala, have a wound, form it into a paste and apply it. I can't tell if it's just an old wives tale or if it might have medicinal value. I can't find a reference to its chemical breakdown anywhere."

"Could it treat her infection?" Will asked.

Beverly shrugged. "I've never seen this fungus. I think a galian treatment would be more successful if it is a galian fungus." She turned back to the PADD. "There has got to be a chemical break down in here somewhere."

"Wait!" Will cried and headed out of the room. He returned a few moments later with what looked like a broken stick in his hand. "Here. I forgot. It was in the bag."

"What is this?" she asked.

"Fala root."

"Where did you get this?" Beverly asked puzzled.

"I got it from a man in the village. He was a member of the resistance. It's sort of a long story."

Beverly looked back at him gratefully. "Another time, maybe," she said as she walked out to get a member of her staff. "Dr. Selar, I need the computer to analyze this and give me a chemical breakdown, as soon as possible." Dr. Selar nodded and disappeared with the root in her hand, and Beverly turned back to the captain and first officer.

The three waited in silence until a nurse came towards them. "Doctor," she said. "She's beginning to try to wake up."

Beverly was off, heading for the private room where they had moved Deanna. Will and the captain lingered just outside the door and watched as the doctor assessed her patient.

Deanna appeared groggy and barely awake as the doctor spoke to her briefly. Then suddenly Deanna's looked over and seemed to meet the eyes of the men standing outside her door. The look lingered only for a moment before she looked down at the bed and rolled over, her back to them.

When Dr. Crusher came back out of the room, she found the two most senior of ship's officers looking at their shoes. Each of them had taken Deanna's look to express anger and hurt and each of them blamed themselves.

"She's exhausted," Beverly told them. "And quite frankly disoriented. She needs to rest." Beverly looked from Will to Jean Luc and she was concerned. Will looked ragged, like he hadn't slept more than a few strung together moments in a week. "As do you, Commander."

"I want to stay with her," Will tried to argue.

"Will," Beverly tried to be kind. "She's stable. She's sleeping. There isn't anything you can do for her here. What you can do is get some rest yourself so when she wakes up and wants to see you, you are ready for that."

Will looked down again and nodded slowly.

"I agree, Number One. As soon as I have your report, I want you to get some rest," the captain told him.

"No, the report can wait. Rest, NOW! That's an order," the doctor told them both. The captain looked back at her with a scowl. He was never fond of her pulling rank on him, especially because she was the only one who could. But Beverly ignored his unhappiness and turned back to Commander Riker. "Did you maim or kill anyone?" she asked.

"No," Will responded softly, not looking up at either of them. Somehow Beverly got the impression that he very much would have liked to.

"Well, then, the report can wait. I am relieving you of duty and don't even think about reporting back to the bridge or dragging yourself in here to check on her until you have slept for at least twelve hours. Is that clear?" she asked.

Both the men nodded, and with one more look into Deanna's room, Will turned and began to walk out.

"Will," Beverly called after him quietly as he reached the door. She walked to meet him and put a hand on his arm. "You did really well, Will. She's just going to need some time, space…" she tired to tell him.

Will only nodded.

"We'll get her through this," she tried again. "We will."

Again he nodded.

"And I meant what I said. Sleep. Really sleep. You and I both know it's been too long." She leaned in closer to him and lowered her voice even further. "If you can't, let me know and I'll bring you something to help. I mean it, Will. It's the best thing you can do for her now."

Will looked back at her and tried to smile gratefully.

"Good night Commander," she said as he headed out the door.

Beverly turned her attention back to the captain. He remained hovering near the doorway watching the rise and fall of Deanna's shoulders as she breathed, Dr. Selar and another nurse hovering over her, monitoring her as she tried to rest.

"I'm worried about him, Jean Luc," she told him glancing back at the door Commander Riker had just walked out of.

"I'm worried about both of them," the captain admitted.

"I think he could use someone to talk to about what happened down there."

"Well, Doctor. I'm afraid my ship's counselor is otherwise occupied," he told her.

"I mean it, Jean Luc. I'm really concerned about how he is going to handle this. I don't like how he's taking the burden of it all on himself."

"And what about Deanna?" he asked her. "Are we certain that she was sexually assaulted as well as the other physical injuries?"

Beverly noted the way that he looked away from her when he asked the question. Perhaps Will wasn't the only one she should be concerned about. "The injuries were significant, Captain. She was raped, repeatedly. I could explain in more detail," she offered.

"No, that won't be necessary," he told her. He shook his head, unsure of what to do next.

"Bridge to Captain Picard," Worf's voice rang through the communication system. "Sir, Admiral Zau is on a comm. link for you, Sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," the captain answered, glancing at Beverly.

"You may use my office," she offered and he nodded.

"Patch it through to Dr. Crusher's office, please." And with a tug on his uniform tunic he walked away towards the Chief Medical Officer's office, leaving her, standing in his place watching Deanna breath.

It was several minutes before the captain stepped out of Beverly's office and called to her. "Doctor, a moment, please."

Beverly quickly put down the PADD she was reading from, stepped out of Deanna's room and walked towards him. "What is it?" she asked as the two of them hovered in the corridor.

"Admiral Zau wanted to confirm that we had left orbit and are in route for Star Base 115," the captain began. "He informed me that Star Fleet is providing a staff of counselors to be there when the ambassador and his staff arrive to help them deal with the ordeal." Jean Luc paused. "He asked if I would be willing to have a member of the staff come aboard to replace Deanna. Temporarily of course."

"He wants to replace her?" Beverly asked.

"Temporarily," the captain emphasized.

Beverly only sighed "Of course."

"He indicated that they were expecting us to leave Deanna there on the star base where she could be treated with the others," Jean Luc said and waited for the doctor's reaction.

Beverly's eyes widened and she began to shake her head. "I don't think so," she said. "How long until we reach the star base?" she asked.

"Four days."

"Captain, I don't think she'll be ready to leave sickbay by then, much less the ship!"

"And yet, I have to agree that she will need psychological treatment, don't you?" the captain asked her.

"I do," she admitted. "But we have other licensed psychologists aboard that she could talk to."

"Beverly," Jean Luc sighed. "Do you really think she'll talk to any of them?"

Beverly thought about this for a moment. "No. I don't. But this isn't a transport ship that she boarded for the first time three months ago. This is her home. We are her family. I don't think it would help her at all for us to abandon her again. Jean Luc, please. There must be something you can do."

"I want to do what's best for her, Doctor. But I don't think that it is likely that she will be ready to resume her duties for a while…"

"She won't like having someone taking over for her," Beverly cautioned him.

"So the choice I am faced with is making her happy or helping her be healthy. I think I choose the latter."

"And she'll stay aboard?" Beverly asked.

"I will contact the admiral and let him know that my chief medical officer has stated that her medical condition would be best served by staying aboard. And of course that I concur."

Beverly smiled at him gratefully.

"Please, keep me apprised of her condition. And when I can have my first officer back, if you don't mind," he said as he headed for the door. As he reached the doorway he glanced back over his shoulder to Deanna's room. He sighed a deep, heavy sigh. She was back, and he was relieved. But he had a sense that the real recovery would take much longer.

Deanna's condition was stable; in fact it remained completely unchanged a day later when Commander Riker walked back into sickbay.

Alyssa Ogawa greeted him as he entered. "Commander, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to check on Counselor Troi," he told her, peaking over her shoulder towards the room Deanna had been in the day before.

"Oh," Alyssa sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Commander. She is still sleeping."

Will nodded. "That's alright. I think I'll just sit with her for a bit."

Alyssa's face grew more serious. "Actually, Sir, she is receiving a treatment right now, and Dr. Crusher…" She sighed and shrugged. "Maybe you could wait here for a moment and I'll get Dr. Crusher for you."

Will did not seem thrilled, but he nodded as she walked away.

Slowly he walked towards Deanna's room where he could hear Dr. Crusher's voice. He saw her swabbing a paste onto Deanna's wounds on her back as she talked to Alyssa Ogawa. Then she turned and looked over at Will and stood and walked towards him.

"Commander, how are you?" she asked as she exited the room carrying a tray in her hand. "Gotten any sleep?"

"Yes, thank you. How's Deanna?"

"She's still sleeping."

"What is that?" Will asked pointing to the tray with the paste on it.

"Fala root," the doctor told him. "It is full of anti fungal properties. We are treating the infection in her blood with a more potent treatment, but this is working well for the skin infection."

"Where did you get it?"

"We replicated it, with the root you gave us. Dr. Selar scanned the chemical and molecular compound into the replicator. Now we have all we need. Once we crush it, we add water until it forms a paste and apply it to the wounds every hour or so. It really looks much better. Once the infection is gone, I can seal the wounds. It shouldn't even scar," Beverly told him as he followed her into her office. "It does, however, seem to be sedating her. Not that that is the worst thing at this point, as long as we keep an eye on her liver function." Beverly realized she was beginning to babble as she sat in her chair. Will stood looking at her. "Will, why don't you sit down," she offered.

"What's wrong, Doc.?" He asked nervously.

"Nothing's wrong. I just thought we should talk for a minute."

"Can it wait till I've seen Deanna?" he asked looking back towards her room.

"Actually, it's about that." Beverly took a deep breath and plowed in. "Will, I don't know that that is a good idea."

"What? Me seeing her?"

"I think she's been through a lot and the least we could do is give her some privacy," Beverly told him. "As much as is possible in sickbay anyway."

"You don't want me to see her?" he asked puzzled.

"I just want to make sure that we are respecting her privacy. Will, I know you want to make it all better for her. I know that. But you can't fix this, no more than I can. She's going to need time and space to handle this on her own."

Will sighed and sank into the chair Beverly had offered earlier. "I just want to be there for her. I don't want her to have to do this alone," he said.

"I know. And I know you're worried about her. If you want to know how she is, please stop by and ask. But I'm restricting her room from visitors until she can ask for them herself. Please, try to understand."

Will felt a little hurt, but he nodded anyway. "I understand, Doc."

"Really, she's doing well. The fever is under control; the kidney and liver are able to rest. Just give her time, Will. She'll want to see you, you know she will. Just let it be on her terms, not yours. Okay?"

Will continued to nod as he stood up. "I'm heading back to the bridge. I assume I can do that?"

"Yes, of course."

"And I can check on her tonight?"

"I'll tell the duty nurse to expect you and to have a full report ready."

Beverly knew he didn't like the idea, but he agreed and headed out of sickbay all the same.

For the next two days Will came into sickbay every morning before the start of his shift and on his way home to check on Deanna, but her condition remained virtually unchanged.

"She's still asleep," he told Beverly on the morning of the third day since her return to the Enterprise.

"Be patient," Beverly cautioned him.

"I'm being patient. But how do I know when to stop being patient and to start panicking?" he asked her quietly from the corner of her doorway.

"The brain swelling is just taking a while. Her back is healed. We aren't using the fala root anymore. That should help," she said cautiously.

"But…"

"Give her another day or so. Then you can start to worry," Beverly finally agreed.

"Maybe if I talked to her…if she heard my voice?"

"Will," Beverly looked sternly at him, as if to say that they had already had this particular conversation. "Day after tomorrow, if she is still unconscious, you can try talking to her. Okay?" she asked him as he continued to peer into the room over her shoulder. "Do we have a deal, Commander?"

Will looked back at her and shrugged. "Yeah, okay," he consented, and left sickbay for his bridge shift.

That night, he sat in ten forward with Geordi and Data eating and talking. "I know it's being pretty tightly rationed, but do you know all the things I could try with even a small amount of tirillium?" Geordi continued a conversation that had begun in engineering over an hour ago. "I mean, Star Base 115 has it, and we'll be there tomorrow morning. It never hurts to ask, right?"

Will nodded vaguely. "I told you I'd sign the requisition, Geordi. I guess it never hurts to ask as long as you're ready to hear the word 'NO' in reply."

"Come on Commander. I'm asking for a chemical compound, not a date," Geordi answered sarcastically.

"Oh, well in that case, you ought to be fine," Will replied with a weak chuckle.

It seemed like keeping up with the conversation was taking a lot of effort for him.

"You okay, Commander?" Geordi asked cautiously.

"Sure," Will replied taking a drink.

"How's Counselor Troi doing?" Geordi asked. "Checked in on her lately?"

"I stopped by on my way to engineering," Will told him. "She's not awake yet."

"Does this concern you, Commander?" Data asked with a puzzled expression.

Will thought for a moment before answering. "It's starting to, yeah," he said spinning his glass around in a circle on the table.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, until Will spoke, wanting to change the subject. "So, Geordi. Tirillium and farazeen…don't they explode or something?"

"Only if I do it wrong," Geordi responded chuckling.

He hoped the conversation with friends would distract him from his constant worry about Deanna, and it helped, but part of his mind was still focused on what was going on with her and why she wasn't waking up.

Guinan approached the table as the hour grew late. She rested her hand on the back of the empty chair. "Well, gentlemen, is there anything else I can get you?" she asked.

"I'll take another ale. Thanks Guinan," Geordi told her.

"And what about you Commander?" she asked looking at Will.

But Will's attention had drifted far from those at the table. Somewhere around him, he heard it. He almost looked around to see who had spoken before he realized that it had not been something spoken out loud, but inside he own head. The one word drifted through his mind, urgent and calling for him. _Imzadi-_

Geordi watched as Commander Riker turned paler and his attention seemed extremely focused, but on nothing in particular. "Commander," he asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"

Will hastily stood up, looking almost panicked, his actions startling those around him. "I need to go check on Deanna," he told the three people looking intently at him.

"You just said you checked on her…" Geordi began.

"I need to go," he said hurriedly, and without explaining her turned and left the room headed for Sickbay.

It appeared that much of the sickbay staff was changing shifts and it left most of them too distracted to notice the second in command quietly entering the main bay. He didn't know what he expected, maybe that something was wrong, that people would be rushing in and out of her room, but everything seemed remarkably peaceful and calm. Will glanced around quickly before quietly entering Deanna's room.

He stood watching her for a moment still lying motionless in the bed, her eyes closed. He didn't know what he was feeling. Perhaps he was just disappointed that Deanna was not awake, looking at him. He had thought maybe her waking had been the cause of her thought casting. Perhaps it was guilt that was making him feel whatever it was that was gnawing away at his stomach. He had told Beverly that he would stay out, give her space, but here he was, sneaking into her room late at night. No. It was the way she had called to him. She had sounded scared, helpless even.

Will stepped away from the door that closed behind him as he slowly approached her. He watched her life signs on the monitor. Her heart rate was elevated, as was her respiratory rate. When he came to the edge of the bed, he took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly and looked at her face. For the first time, he noticed that her face looked distressed. He could see her eyes darting back and forth under her closed eyelids, and he realized that she was having a nightmare.

Will held her hand tighter and ran his hand along her forehead and cheek. "Shh, Deanna. I'm here," he whispered to her. "I'm here. Nothing can hurt you now," he said kissing her forehead. "I won't let it. You're safe." He continued to whisper to her, hoping he could wish her nightmare away. "Imzadi," he spoke so softly he wasn't sure he had uttered a sound at all. "Come back to me."

Will stood bent close to her body whispering to her until her heart rate began to drop slightly and her breathing fell into a calm regular pattern. Her face seemed to reflect her resting peacefully again, and with another light kiss, he stepped away from her, gently releasing her hand.

Again, in his head, rang the single word_- Imzadi_. But she was no longer panicked. It was more like someone calling out to a room to see if they were alone.

He stepped back to her taking her hand again. "I'm here," he told her. "I won't leave you." As he said it, he felt a small pang of guilt. He knew Dr. Crusher had restricted access to her room, and it was just a matter of time, until one of her staff came to check on their patient. How could he explain this to any of them? Still he stayed in his place by her bed, watching her sleep.

He heard the doors slide open behind him a while later and he turned to face what he somehow assumed would be an angry chief medical officer. Instead he looked at a young lieutenant whose name he didn't know. She was clearly startled to see someone in the room other than the patient. She glanced quickly over her shoulder as if wondering what to do, before simply smiling softly and greeting him with a small nod of her head. She went about her work, gathering information, and replacing medical equipment in the room, and Will continued to stand holding Deanna's hand, puzzled. Had she not heard that he was not supposed to be there? Or was she simply too young and too scared to tell the first officer of the Enterprise to get out? Either way, he was grateful.

After a few minutes in the room she nodded again and walked back out. When the door opened again a few minutes later, Will braced himself, but when he turned again, he saw the nurse carrying in a chair that she placed to the side of the bed, behind where he stood. Then she placed a blanket in the seat and with another smile and a glance at Deanna, she left him alone with her.

Will kept his vigil by her bed for another hour until his feet and back ached. He slowly released her hand and pulled the chair nearer to the bedside where he settled in for the night. He wrapped the blanket around himself and tried to find a comfortable position, placing his hand over hers as it rested on the bed. Slowly he drifted off to sleep to the soft beeps of the monitors.

He woke to the sound of people pouring into the room and the heart monitor alarm chiming loudly. He didn't know how long he had slept or what time it was.

Dr. Selar and several nurses were pouring over information as Deanna moved slightly in her bed. Will took one look at her and knew it was another nightmare. He tried to be unassuming as he stood by her side and held tight to her hand.

"Shh, Deanna," he said softly brushing his hand along her hair.

_Imzadi…_she called to him. Her voice again sounded terrified. _Help me!_

Will tried to clear his mind of everything but the sound of her voice that lingered. Feeling horribly out of practice, and with all his effort, he focused on her and tried to reach out to her in the same way she was to him.

_I'm here. Don't be afraid. It's over. You're home. Wake up, Deanna. Wake up. I'm right here. You aren't alone. _

The medical staff slowly backed away, not understanding what was taking place, but able to see its positive effects. Deanna's heart rate returned to normal and the alarm ceased. Within a few minutes, Deanna was sleeping peacefully again. Will fought the urge to scream at her to wake up. She was so close to opening her eyes and talking to him again. He could just feel it. And he wasn't leaving her.

The medical staff left, one by one, without a word to Commander Riker about what he was doing there. So Will slowly settled back into the chair, pulling the blanket over him and lacing his fingers through hers. He listened to the steady sounds of her breathing and rhythmic beep of her heartbeat and drifted back to sleep.


	6. Found 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

Special thanks to Tikva for the pre-read. I appreciate her efforts. I bet the rest of you will too. :)

**Chapter 6**

He woke again to someone shaking his shoulder. Groggily he began to rub at his eyes.

"Will. Will, wake up," the voice of the Enterprise's chief medical officer drifted into his ears and he quickly tried to sit up.

"Beverly," he tried to begin but she interrupted him with her best mother voice.

"Will," she scolded. "I thought we had a deal. What are you doing here?"

Will sat up in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "Beverly, I can explain," he offered.

"He's here because I wanted him to be."

The sound of her voice made both Will and Beverly jump as they both turned, they saw Deanna sitting up in the bed, hugging her knees, still looking a bit asleep.

"Is that a problem?" Deanna asked.

Beverly looked back to Will looking shocked. "No, of course not. Deanna! How are you feeling?" she asked stepping up to her.

Deanna rubbed at her forehead. She felt as though she were emerging from a dark fog in her mind. "Tired," she finally responded.

Will was out of his chair and by her side almost as quickly as Beverly. He kissed the top of her head and put his arm around her. "Hey there, sleeping beauty. You had me a little worried."

Deanna looked into his eyes and felt his concern, but did not understand it. She looked around the room, slightly puzzled, then back to Will. "How long have I been here?" she asked. As the words left her mouth she had a strange sense of deejay vu.

"A little over four days," Beverly answered.

Deanna reached up and held her head as pain shot through her brain, like the most intense headache she had ever experienced, and with it came a flood of images, memories.

Everything that had happened to her came crashing back over her. It had not been a nightmare. Will had come to rescue her and she had asked him how long she had been there. He had told her six days, though it had seemed like much longer. Now four more days. Almost two weeks of her life were gone, just like that. It hadn't meant to be like that. It shouldn't have been like that. She racked her brain trying to remember what had happened to her, how this had happened, but could not remember anything clearly, or in any sort of order. The images and memories were like scattered pictures with no organization. She cradled her throbbing head in her hands.

"Does your head hurt?" Beverly asked moving towards her.

Without meaning to, Deanna felt herself jump and pull away from her friend, her eyes looking panicked.

Will slowly pulled his arm away from her and gave her some space, as she seemed to struggle to get her bearings.

"It's okay, Deanna," Beverly told her calmly. "Let me give you something for your headache."

Deanna felt a surge of anger from inside her and couldn't explain to herself why. But she shook her head. "I'm fine," she told them both, though she was starting to feel a bit woozy. "I want to go back to my quarters. When can I leave?" She had this urge to get out of there, out of that room, away from them. She wanted nothing more than to run, run back to where she knew she was safe and lock the door. Alone. She wanted to be alone with no one watching her.

"Deanna," Beverly began cautiously approaching her bed. "You've been unconscious since just shortly after coming out of surgery. You still have a fungal infection in your blood and one kidney is not functioning fully. You aren't going anywhere."

Finally Deanna looked up at the two of them. She could sense their concern for her, but it didn't stop her urge to get away from them. She took a couple of deep breaths trying to calm herself. She knew this feeling to flee was not rational. These were her friends. They were trying to help her.

"How much longer will I need to stay?" she finally asked them.

"I would like to see you with no fever for 48 hours. Then we'll talk," Beverly told her.

Deanna sighed and pulled the blanket closer around her.

"If you want," Will offered. "I can go to your quarters, pick you up a few of your things? I can bring you some comfy pajamas or fuzzy slippers…whatever you want."

Deanna tried to smile at him and she nodded.

"What do you want?" he asked her.

Deanna shrugged thinking about what she would want if she were home. "Could you bring me the blanket at the foot of my bed? And something to wear?" she asked pulling at the sickbay smock that covered her.

Will cautiously leaned in and kissed her on her forehead. "You got it. I'll be back in a bit," he told her and he was off, leaving Deanna alone in the room with the doctor.

The two women watched each other in silence for a moment. Beverly was surprised that Deanna seemed more at ease with Will than she did with herself. She had expected her to shy away from anyone male.

"How much do you remember?" Beverly finally asked her.

Deanna closed her eyes for a moment and the pictures flooded back over her mind. "I remember," she finally told her, her voice quiet. Then she looked up to meet the doctor's gaze. "Am I going to be okay?" she asked.

"Yes. You are going to be just fine," Beverly said stepping up to her and gently placing her hand over Deanna's.

"I was hurt…"

"You had a nasty concussion,"

"I hit my head," Deanna confirmed reaching up to rub at her scalp. She remembered the pain, but the cause was a little fuzzy.

"There were some other injuries, but they have been repaired. We fixed up your ankle; we're treating the kidney. Your liver is doing much better now that you aren't ingesting that fala root."

"It was in the tea," Deanna murmured, mostly to herself. "I'm sorry. It was all they gave me to drink. I was so thirsty," Deanna tried to justify as tears filled her eyes.

Beverly wrapped her arms around her. "It's okay. It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong. You needed liquids. You did just fine." Beverly began to rock ever so slightly back and forth as if she cradled a child in her arms.

"It was hot," Deanna continued. "And I was so thirsty."

"Are you thirsty now?" Beverly asked her. "Would you like something to eat maybe?"

Deanna pulled away from her as if she had said something offensive. "No," she muttered softly.

"Okay," Beverly said calmly, not at all sure what she had said to frighten her. They sat in silence for a moment longer.

"Beverly," Deanna finally spoke. Her voice was just above a whisper. "They raped me."

Beverly nodded slowly. "I know," she said wanting to reach out to her, but not wanting to invade her space.

"It hurt so badly," Deanna was choking back tears. "And I would bleed."

"I know. It's okay."

"Am I okay?" Deanna finally asked her.

"Oh, Deanna," Beverly finally stepped back to her and wrapped her again in her arms. "I'm so sorry that they hurt you. Medically, you will be fine. There were several injuries, but we were able to heal them. There shouldn't be any scaring or long term physical effects."

"Can I still have a baby?"

Beverly paused at the abrupt and unexpected question. "Of course. I wouldn't recommend it at this very moment. But in the future, should you choose to have children, there is nothing that happened in the last few days that would prevent that."

Deanna sighed and hugged Beverly in return. Beverly tried to hide her puzzlement. Of all the things Deanna could have asked her, all that she expected for her to ask her, that was not one of them. She knew her friend wanted to have children, but she didn't think it would be the first thing on her mind.

"Deanna, we are treating you for the common sexually transmitted diseases that we know of, though I haven't seen any signs of any. You had an active contraceptive in place. While there's no one else here, what else do you want to know?"

Deanna thought for a moment, cataloging the snap shots in her head as she went. She reached back and put a hand on her back as if remembering the pain. Then she gasped and put her hand to her chest, pulling away the smock to look at herself.

"There's no scarring. The wounds healed nicely. There are no physical signs of the attacks. Well there's a little bruising still. But that will fade."

"Does everyone know?" Deanna finally asked her.

Beverly sighed. "I gave a medical review to the captain. Will knows only what you told him, and those of us that were on the bridge heard bits and pieces. There was a lot of static. My medical staff knows the injuries they saw. But honestly, I think most of the crew has a decent idea. An educated guess, if nothing else."

Deanna looked down, studying the pattern of the weave in the blanket she held tight to herself. Everyone knew. The thought was overwhelming to her. The overwhelming urge to be alone was rushing back over her.

"Deanna, it's okay. No one is judging you. We are all concerned about you. Nothing more."

Deanna only nodded as she began to rock herself slowly back and forth.

"What else can I tell you?" Beverly asked kindly.

Deanna shook her head. She had to find a way to be by herself. She didn't know how much longer she could bottle up the urge to run. She glanced around the room and noticed the small door to the bathroom. "Could I take a shower?" she asked Beverly.

"Of course," she told her. "Let's try to have you stand up, and if you're okay on your feet, you can go ahead. Here," Beverly held her hand as Deanna eagerly swung her feet over the side of the bed. Gradually she eased off the bed and stood next to her friend. Beverly nodded at her as if to ask if she were okay and Deanna nodded back. Only then did Beverly let go of her hand and watch her take a shaky step towards the door.

…..

Captain Picard walked with Ambassador Greer through the corridors heading towards the transporter room. The ship had arrived at the star base an hour before and the former galian ambassador and his staff were disembarking.

"So, Ambassador. Do you know where your next assignment will be?" the captain asked him.

"No," he responded. "I think I will remain with my staff as long as they are on the star base. This last year has been very hard on them. And David Leary was very well liked amongst my staff. Several of us took his death very hard." The two continued their way along the corridor. "Several of my staff have their families meeting them here. It has been a long time for them. It will be good for them to see their families."

"I didn't realize," the captain told him. "How long ago did the families leave the embassy?"

"Over a year, some longer. I also sent my personal assistant with them. She was none to happy with me, but it seemed that it was an unnecessary risk."

"So your entire remaining staff is male?" the captain asked him. "I didn't realize," he said again, shaking his head, feeling a twinge of guilt for not understanding the situation completely before sending his ship's counselor to the surface.

As they rounded a corner, the captain saw his first officer striding towards them.

"Commander," the captain greeted him. He looked surprised to see him. "I didn't expect you to be here," he said.

Will was just on his way to Deanna's quarters to retrieve some of her personal things when the captain had stopped him with a puzzled look. "Sir?" Will asked.

"I would have thought you would have been in transporter room four, greeting the lieutenant who will be covering…"

But Will interrupted him, muttering under his breath. "Damn it," he said. "I'm sorry, Captain. I'm on my way there now," Will said realizing he was late to meet the star fleet counselor who would be taking over Deanna's duties.

"Are you alright, Commander?" the captain asked him.

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir. I just was…I was…"

The captain raised a brow at him.

"Deanna's awake," Will said to him. "I was just going to retrieve some things for her. I got so distracted…"

"That's wonderful news. When did this happen?" the captain asked him.

"Just a few minutes ago."

"And how does she seem?"

"Honestly, a little disoriented still," Will confessed.

The ambassador stepped up to reenter the conversation. "I am relieved to hear that she is well. I wish I would have the opportunity to thank her for the risk that she took on my behalf, but I must be going. I hope you will pass on my appreciation and sympathies, Commander."

"I will, Sir," Will said reaching out to shake the ambassador's hand.

"Until we meet again," Ambassador Greer offered and Will nodded at the captain before hurrying back to the turbo lift and the captain and their guest proceeded to the transporter room where his staff was beaming to the star base.

Will strode into the transporter room and was greeted by the ensign on duty.

"Sir, the star base is ready to beam Lieutenant Soto aboard."

"Proceed Ensign," he said and slowly the room filled with light and Will found himself looking at a young woman, Asian in decent. She was petite, her dark hair pulled back tightly. For a moment he thought of Deanna when she had first come aboard, trying so hard to prove herself, and involuntarily he felt himself smile slightly. He extended his hand. "Lieutenant Soto, I am Commander William Riker. Welcome aboard."

Lieutenant Soto shook his hand firmly. "Hello Commander. Thank you. I read your personnel file," she told him.

"And I yours," he assured her. "I apologize for the delay with you coming aboard."

"I understand," she told him. "This is a very busy ship."

"Well, especially today," Will told her. "Please, let me show you to your quarters. I wish I had time to give you a tour of the ship, but…"

"It's quite alright, Sir. I'm sure I'll be able to find my way around," she said as she followed him out the door and into the corridor.

"Your personal items have been beamed to your quarters," he told her. "Have you been on a galaxy class star ship before?" he asked.

Lieutenant Soto shook her head as she walked along next to him. "No, Sir. In fact, I have never been stationed on a star ship before," she confessed.

"Yes, I read in your record that you have served as a crisis counselor." Will paused his step as they waited for the lift. "To be honest with you, I'm not entirely sure what that means," he said a bit sheepishly.

"Typically my assignments have been short stays on different planets after a crisis or tragedy. When the need for counseling staff is resolved, I move on."

"That sounds like a difficult lifestyle," he conceded.

"It can be, but for the most part, I find it rewarding. Of course when I was sent to Star Base 115, it was my impression that I would be working with the ambassador's staff on the star base, but I'm honored to be here to help, however I can."

The lift doors opened and Will lead her inside, giving the computer the deck assignment. "Well, I don't know that you will find filling in for someone as challenging as crisis counseling, but it is only temporary," he told her, hoping that he didn't sound as defensive of Deanna's position as he was suddenly feeling.

Lieutenant Soto stood studying the first officer for a moment before responding. "Commander, it is my understanding that I am here as a crisis counselor," she said gently. She watched his facial expression tighten and noted in her mind that he was clearly in denial. "How is Counselor Troi doing, by the way?" she asked him.

Will took a deep breath as the lift came to a stop. "She's making progress," he finally told her, stepping out of the lift and proceeding down the corridor to her assigned quarters.

"That's wonderful," she said brightly. "I look forward to meeting her."

Will paused outside her door. "Well, here you are," he said opening the door for her. "The replicator is there, and your computer terminal will have access to the crew's personnel files. We will be leaving the star base later this afternoon, so anything that you still need…" Will thought of all that the ship was to be getting from the star base and suddenly realized he had not signed the requisition that Geordi had asked him for the night before. "Damn it," he said again softly under his breath.

"Is everything alright, Commander?" Lieutenant Soto asked him.

"Yes, I'm sorry. It's been a busy morning and I forgot that I'm needed in engineering. I'm not usually this scattered," he assured her.

Lieutenant Soto smiled at him kindly.

"The captain would like to see you in his ready room at 15:00 and that will be followed by a senior staff meeting at 15:30."

"I'll be there," she told him.

"If you need anything," he offered.

"I'll be fine. Thank you Commander." She said and with a nod and farewell, he was gone heading for engineering.

….

"Commander," he said walking towards Geordi. "Sorry, I didn't sign that form."

Geordi leaned over where he was working and handed the PADD to Will, looking at him concerned. "No problem, Sir. Is everything okay?" he asked. "You left last night kind of suddenly."

"Yeah, everything's fine. Deanna's awake," he told his friend and Geordi broke into a smile.

"That's great, Sir. How is she?"

Will shrugged. "I told her I'd get some things from her quarters for her, but then I forgot that I was supposed to be greeting the counselor replacing her and that I didn't sign your requisition form. It's been a crazy morning."

Geordi took the PADD form his hand after he had quickly scrawled his name across the bottom of the form and motioned for him to go. "No problem, Sir. Go get her whatever she needs."

With a smile and a pat on Geordi's shoulder, Will headed out of engineering.

"Hey, Commander," Geordi called and Will turned back to him. "That's really great news," he told him with a small shrug.

Will nodded and smiled in return and then he was gone.

He didn't have much trouble gathering the things that she had asked for, as well as a few more items that he saw that he thought she might like. He collected them n a pile on her bed and then put them in a travel case and headed back to sickbay. When he walked into the main bay he saw Dr. Crusher talking to the captain outside Deanna's room door.

"There you are," Beverly greeted him. "Did you get lost on the way to her quarters?"

"Just a little sidetracked," Will told her. "Is she okay?"

Beverly nodded.

"I assume Lieutenant Soto is aboard?" the captain asked him.

"Yes, Sir. She is in her quarters. I told her that you wanted to see her at 15:00 in your ready room before the staff meeting."

"Good." The captain nodded his head. "Any first impressions?"

"She's young, but seems confident in her abilities. Her resume certainly wouldn't indicate otherwise." Will shrugged. "She seemed nice enough. I honestly didn't spend a whole lot of time with her."

"I take it that you wanted to get back here," the captain said looking either amused or content. "And Commander Data had you sign off on the compound alloy transfers?" he asked.

Will hung his head. "Damn it," he muttered again as he rubbed his forehead.

"Commander, your mind is clearly already fully occupied with events here. I will look over Data's report. Why don't you take the rest of the day and do what you need to do and we will see you at the staff meeting later this afternoon. Would that be acceptable?" the captain asked with a small smile on his face.

Will sighed. "Thank you, Sir." Then he turned to the doctor and motioned to the travel case. "I'm going to take these to Deanna," he told her and stepped towards her door.

When the door opened the small room was very quiet, empty in fact. Will stepped back out and looked back to where the doctor and captain stood huddled in conversation. "Hey, Doc. Where is she?" he asked trying not to sound as panicked as he felt.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Beverly began taking a step towards him. "She wanted to take a shower. I told her you would leave her things on the counter for when she was done."

"How long has she been in there?" Will asked, looking towards the small patient bathroom.

"Quite a while," Beverly admitted. "Just let her take this in her own time, okay?"

Will nodded. "Time, space…I got it." With that he walked to the bathroom door and knocked lightly. He could hear the sound of the shower on the other side of the door, but no answer. He knocked again, and when she still did not answer, he opened the door just slightly and called to her. The room was thick with steam. "Deanna," still she did not answer. He opened the door just a bit more. "Dea, I got your things," he told her. "There're some clothes and I brought your hairbrush and some other things I thought you might want. I can put them right here." He opened the door far enough for him to reach in to place the case on the counter, still she did not respond. Will's heart began to pump hard in his chest. He opened the door wide. "Dea," he called one last time before walking inside. "Oh my god, Deanna," he cried softly when he saw her.

She sat on the floor of the shower, her knees tucked to her chest, rocking rhythmically back and forth. Her eyes were closed, her wet hair plastered to her head, and her teeth chattering. In her right hand she held an exfoliating brush and she continued to scrub at the place on her wrist where the strap had been. Rhythmically with her rocking she scrubbed the brush back and forth, the skin underneath rubbed raw as blood ran down her arm and mixed with the water, circling the drain at her feet. Her chest was also red as were her thighs where more blood mixed with the water. Still, she scrubbed at her own skin.

Will only watched for a moment puzzled before he reacted, reaching down to take the brush from her hand. "Stop," he told her prying the brush from her clenched fist. "Deanna, stop. Don't do this." Finally she released the brush and her eyes opened, but she did not look up at him. She was not crying. She looked more like a hollow shell of the woman he knew.

"Doc," Will called desperately out the door.

When Beverly heard the urgent tone in his voice, she came running and came to stand next to him in the now cramped bathroom. Will was shutting the shower off and Deanna sat shivering on the floor.

Beverly let out something between a sob and a sigh before regaining her composure. "Okay," she said softly. "Get her back to bed," she told Will and headed out of the room.

She walked past the captain without a word to him. "Alyssa," she called to one of her nurses. "I need some abrasion kits, now!"

"Is everything alright, Doctor?" Jean Luc asked. Beverly's face seemed torn with emotion.

Beverly just shook her head. "I'm not the right kind of doctor for this, Jean Luc. I don't know how to fix this," she confessed as she stepped back to the door.

As the doors opened the captain caught a glimpse of Deanna in Will's arms, wrapped in a large towel. Her eyes looked hollow, vacant, as Will rubbed another towel over her exposed skin to dry her. Then he began drying her hair. The sound was soft at first, but grew to fill the room. A moan, more than a cry, until Deanna's small frame dissolved against Wills and her body shook with large wracking sobs as she cried against his chest.

The door slid shut and Beverly and Jean Luc stood staring at the closed door listening to the strangled sobs coming from the other side. When Alyssa hurried towards the door, the med kits in hand, Beverly reached out to stop her. "It'll wait," she told her softly as the sound of Deanna's cries poured from the room. "She needs this more."

Deanna tried to hold the towel tighter to her as her body began to shake violently as she sobbed into Will's warm chest. It was as if the dam holding back her emotions had cracked and as the emotions tore against the weakened defenses the entire dam came tumbling to the ground, drowning her completely in the pain and anger and despair that she could no longer fight against. Sobs wracked her body as Will held her softly to him. She felt safe in his arms, like he would somehow stop her from careening over the edge of sanity that she felt she was teetering on. He would save her from that which she had no control over. But in the same moment she felt her anger surge within her. She did not want to need him. It wasn't right. She had to do this on her own. She was alone. She had been alone on the planet. He couldn't help her.

Slowly the sobs subsided as her body sagged against him. He hadn't spoken, hadn't tried to soothe her. What must he think of her like this? Deanna took a deep breath and tried to reach out to him, to feel what he was feeling, but when she did, she immediately drew away. The anger and guilt was too much for her. She pulled her body away from him and tucked her knees to her chest again.

But Will remained steady next to her, his hand on her shoulder. He looked over her, but she would not return his gaze. She only shook her head slightly, as if words were still too much effort.

Will looked at her again, wrapped in a towel on the bed and he stepped away to retrieve the case he had left in the bathroom. Without a word between them, Will pulled her soft pajamas over her head and removed the towel from her as he slipped her arms through. She didn't fight him. She didn't have the energy to stop him anyway. She simply trusted him as he turned her away from him and began to brush through her tangled hair.

He could see spots where fistfuls of hair had been yanked from her head and it only served to increase the ache in his heart. He wanted to hold her, to help her, but he couldn't help but feel that the pain she was in was his fault, and he was sure after what he just saw that he didn't know what to do to help her.

His hands ran through her hair, down to her shoulder and slipped down her arms until they rested on her wrists. Coming to stand in front of her he studied the slim wrists he held in his hands. They were still raw from the friction of the firm brush against the newly repaired skin, but the bleeding had stopped. He looked back to her face, still with her eyes on the floor.

"Deanna," he finally spoke.

She shook her head softly.

"Why?" he asked.

She continued to shake her head, and when she tried to speak, her voice was hoarse and scratchy. "I just wanted to be clean," she told him softly. "I wanted to feel clean."

Will sighed heavily. "The doctor should look at you," he told her, and to his surprise she grasped his wrists in return. She was still shaking slightly.

"Please don't leave me," she cried softly.

"Okay," he told her gently. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

"I don't want her to see," she confessed.

"Deanna, she needs to fix this." But Deanna shook her head firmly. Will decided not to push her on it at the moment. Instead he reached over and grabbed the pajama pants and bent down to ease them onto her body. This time Deanna kept her eyes fixed on him as he slipped her feet inside and slid the material up her legs. He paused as the material passed her knees and he saw that the skin on her thighs was actually torn and still glistening with blood. He grabbed the towel and tried to dab lightly at the fresh wounds, but Deanna pulled away from him, tucking her legs tightly to her again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No," Deanna said watching how Will drew away from her almost as if she had physically pushed him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" she tried as she saw the tears welling up in her friend's eyes.

"Deanna, please. This is my fault. Please let me tell you I'm sorry," he said as he sat at the foot of her bed, his hands on her knees.

Deanna pulled the pants all the way up and looked back at Will. "You were doing your job," Deanna said firmly. She could feel his hands start to tremble against her.

"If one more person tells me that, I may scream," he said, the tremble in his voice as well.

"We were given orders…" she said, letting herself slip into a mode of counseling, of control, where she would be safe.

"I know what my job is, Deanna," he said to her raising his voice to dangerously close to yelling. "I understand what I did, and why I did it. But since when does doing your job negate your responsibility for your actions? When did it make it easier to say I'm sorry to a mother or father or wife or child?" he continued, his voice still rising. "Is it supposed to make me feel better? Is it supposed to make seeing you like this easier? It doesn't! It makes it harder!"

"Will, nothing that happened down there was your fault," she spoke calmly in a clinical voice.

"That's bullshit, and you know it. You don't even believe it. I can see it in the way you look at me. I left you there. At least tell me the truth!"

….

For a while the doctor and captain had waited outside the door listening to Deanna release some of her pain. But as time had passed, they had stepped away and begun to discuss matters about the counselor's replacement. However all talking stopped as they heard Commander Riker's raised voice coming from the room. His tone was angry, though his words were muffled. Without stopping to think, Beverly hurried towards the door, only to be caught by the wrist by her captain.

She turned around to face him with a fierce look in her eye, but he was calm in return, though his eyes were sad and tired. "Let them do this, get it out," he told her.

"Shouting at her will help?" Beverly asked incredulously.

"He wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Trust him," he said.

….

"Don't do this, Deanna. Don't give me the Counselor Troi bit. You may fool them," he said with a jerk of his head towards the door. "But you won't fool me. You can't turn the conversation away from you, not this time. So don't try to analyze me or Beverly or the captain or anyone else. It won't change any of this!"

"When something like this happens, it affects everyone in the crew…" Deanna began again.

"Stop it, Deanna! Stop! Scrubbing your skin till you bleed will not make what happened to you go away and neither will talking about other people's feelings instead of your own. Can't you just let it be about you, just this once? Just for right here right now? Or do you not trust us enough? You don't trust me enough?"

"What do you want from me?" Deanna said, her soft whisper contrasting with his own raised voice.

"I want you to be honest with me," he said simply.

"You want me to be angry with you?" she shouted back, her own raised voice echoing out into the main bay.

"I left you there!"

"I know, Will! I know! I remember!"

"Do you?" he asked more gently.

Deanna's mind filled with images in the caverns, dark, confusing pictures as she ran. The last memory she had was reaching up for his hand, the bright light of the sky behind him.

"Yes," she whispered.

"So hit me, kick me, yell at me!" he was yelling again. "Tell me you hate me! Tell me you don't trust me! But don't you dare tell me I was doing my job!"

"I don't hate you. I have to trust you. I just have to."

"Then what do you feel. Deanna? I'm not the empath."

Deanna wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest. She felt such a swirl of emotions; it was hard for her to label them. But she needed to try. What if he walked away? She couldn't let him leave like this.

"I'm sad," she finally told him quietly, her eyes on the floor. "And I'm scared."

"Me too," he answered her equally quietly.

Deanna looked up at him surprised. Those were not the emotions that she felt from him earlier, and yet just as easily she could feel him being completely honest with her. "Why?" she asked. "Of what?"

"I'm scared I've lost you," he told her.

"I'm right here."

"That's not what I mean."

Deanna looked back at the floor. "No. I guess I knew that." Deanna paused and thought for a moment before speaking again. "I feel lost, and I don't like it."

"What can I do?" Will asked.

Deanna only shrugged. "No one can help me," she finally told him. "I have to do this alone."

"That's ridiculous," he told her.

"I can't handle everyone else's emotions with my own," she said shaking her head. "It's too hard."

"You're trying to push me away," he told her. "I won't let you, Deanna. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Get used to it. I won't loose you to this. Do you understand me?"

Deanna looked up to see his determined eyes on her. He raised his eyebrow and nodded as if it were a question. Slowly Deanna nodded in return and he pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

"We'll get you through this, I promise," he whispered against her hair and he felt her head nod against him.

Deanna let herself melt against him. She felt suddenly very tired as she snuggled into his embrace. The swirl of emotions was subsiding as Deanna tucked all that she could safely back behind the dam.

"It hurts," she finally whispered.

Will pulled away to look at her. "What hurts? Your head, your back?" he asked concerned as her face winced with discomfort.

Deanna carefully rubbed her hand across her wrists. "My skin," she told him.

"Beverly can fix it. I can get her to fix it."

Deanna nodded her permission and he stepped away from her and headed out the door.


	7. Found 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A note to my readers: Sorry this seems to have taken too long for some of you - (I warned you before I started!) But the next chapter will be along before long. In fact I promise I will post it on Saturday 1-7-09 at 12:00 p.m. west coast time US...Okay? Deal? Happy reading. Thanks for the reviews! They make my day!

**Chapter 7**

Lieutenant Soto was already seated at the table in the observation lounge as the members of the senior staff from the bridge came into the room. They each took their seats, one by one; leaving the chair that would have usually been the Counselor's empty as they had since the away mission.

The captain walked in and with a quick glance at the new face in the room, he spoke, "Are we ready to begin?" the captain asked as the room fell silent. "First and foremost, if there are any that have not heard, Counselor Troi is awake and alert in sick bay," he said with a nod to the doctor.

"She is awake, but I'm not sure that she is ready for a deluge of visitors. It's going to take time." Doctor Crusher told them.

With a nod, the captain moved on. "Our mission will be to return to the Dorvan nebula and continue our mapping and analysis of the area, picking up where we left off two weeks ago before we received the distress call from the Galian Ambassador."

"I'm sure stellar cartography will be pleased," Commander Riker chimed in. Just thinking that it was less than two weeks ago that they had been charting an evolving star system. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"The mission should be routine and relatively uneventful for most of us, which I am hoping will give us each time to deal with the next issue." He gestured to Lieutenant Soto as she sat.

"This is Lieutenant Amy Soto. She is a counselor that has been temporarily assigned to the Enterprise to assist us while Counselor Troi recovers. Lieutenant, allow me to introduce my senior staff. This is Commander Laforge, my Chief engineer, Lieutenant Worf, chief of security, Lt. Commander Data, my second officer, Doctor Crusher, Chief Medical officer, and you have already met Commander Riker."

Lieutenant Soto nodded and greeted them each in turn, ending with Commander Riker. "Hello again, Sir," she said simply as she smiled.

"I have spoken to Lieutenant Soto, and discussed with her what her duties will be while she's aboard. Lieutenant Soto is here to help not only with Counselor Troi's existing case load, but to assist in her recovery." The captain nodded to her as if to give her the floor.

"Thank you, Sir. First of all, I am honored to be here to help in whatever way I can. If I may ask for all of your assistance…I do not wish to inundate Counselor Troi with questions about her patients when she should be concentrating on her recovery. So, if there is someone under your command that has been working with Counselor Troi, or is in need of counseling, I would appreciate it if you could pass their names on to me. That would really be helpful to me over the next few days." As she finished, she nodded in return to the captain.

The captain shifted awkwardly in his chair. "Lieutenant Soto is also here to help all of us as we…cope with the last few weeks," he said with a pause. "I am ordering each of you to have one appointment with her over the next week. Please do not bother trying to avoid it. I am including myself on this list and if I am not letting myself off the hook, I certainly have no intention of letting any of you. Doctor, I would also like everyone on your staff who has been caring for the counselor to see Lieutenant Soto over the next week." He glanced around the room at the unhappy faces of his senior staff."Is there anything else?"

"One appointment, Sir?" Commander Riker asked a bit begrudgingly.

"I will leave the need for follow up appointments at Lieutenant Soto's discretion. Anything else?"

Lieutenant Soto raised her hand slightly. "I would prefer you call me Counselor, or simply Amy. I'm here to help…to give you someone to talk to. I am not going to be serving as a bridge officer. I have found that referring to me by my rank creates a sense of distance that doesn't really suit my purpose. I assume Counselor Troi felt the same way. I notice that none of you have referred to her as Commander Troi."

The room was silent as the senior staff exchanged glances, apparently sizing up the intruder.

"Fine then, thank you, Counselor," the captain said with a quick nod. "Number One, inform stellar cartography that we will be retuning to their mapping mission. Commander Laforge, please assist Mr. Data in allocating the power resources and timed access to the deflector dish between the various departments." He looked around at the group again. It wasn't the same with this stranger among them. "Dismissed," he said before he rose from his chair and headed back to his ready room.

"Commander Riker," Amy Soto called as Will headed for the opposite door.

He turned back to her. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

She cocked her head to one side at the use of her rank, but did not mention it. "I was hoping now might be an acceptable time to talk," she told him.

He raised his eyebrow.

"You are off shift, are you not?" she asked him.

"Yes, I am."

"Then, if you don't have any pressing social engagements, I would like us to have a conversation."

Will looked back over the woman's shoulder at the door from which the captain had exited, and she followed his gaze. "He did say to not try to avoid it, Sir," she reminded him. "And I need to start somewhere."

"I would think that you would start with your patient**,**" he said rather uncomfortably.

"I have a whole ship full of patients, Sir. And quite frankly, before I see the counselor, I would like an opportunity to get to know her better by talking with her friends and colleagues. So, I thought I would start with you."

Will watched as Geordi and Beverly slipped from the room, like fish escaping a net. Worf also lingered in the room for a moment before giving Will a quick nod of his head that he swore said _better you than me,_ before walking back onto the bridge, leaving Will alone with the counselor, standing staring at him expectantly.

"Okay, fine," Will reluctantly agreed, pointing back to the table for them to sit down.

"Here?" she asked.

Will sighed. "Where would you like to talk?"

"Well, I thought the counseling office might be a more appropriate venue," she told him and Will almost visibly winced.

"Oh, well actually… the, ah…the counselor's office…I was hoping that you would begin your work tomorrow,"

"And before I step in to her office, you were hoping for a chance to clean it up…remove her personal affects, so I was not nosing around in your friends things?" she asked him.

Will stuttered slightly, looking at his hands. "I, ah…well…I guess that's pretty much it. Yes."

"I can appreciate that," she admitted. "And you were planning on doing this tonight?" she asked him.

Will nodded.

"Well in that case, why don't we go there now? I will sit in one spot and not nose around while you clean or whatever it is you intend to do. I won't touch anything…It will give you something to do while we talk. You don't particularly strike me as the type to sit still."

"Really?" he asked.

"You'll find, Commander, that I am not a sarcastic person. It doesn't bode well in my line of work. It's this way, right?" she said leading the way out the door with a reluctant first officer in tow.

They walked in silence until they found themselves standing inside the door of Deanna's office. "Don't let me stop you," she said as she took a seat in a chair and kept watching him.

Will shrugged with a sigh and proceeded to Deanna's desk. "Alright. I'm here. What is it you would like to talk about?" he asked as he began looking around at his surroundings. There was a picture of her parents that he took and put in a case, as well as a PADD that seemed to have a half written letter to her mother on it.

"I would really rather listen. I would be far more interested in what _you _would like to talk about." Amy said from her seat, making no effort to help him, or interfere.

Will continued shuffling through the items on her desk…the mission briefing for the rescue mission, a typographical map of the caverns… Finally he put the PADD in his hand down and looked up at the lieutenant. "This wasn't my idea. I don't have anything I want to talk about."

Lieutenant Soto smiled. "You haven't seen a counselor before, have you? Or maybe just not in a very long time."

"When I did, I have to say I thought it was a complete waste of time."

"And yet the ships counselor of the Enterprise is one of your closest friends? - That's a bit ironic, don't you think?"

Will looked up at her, one eyebrow raised in question.

"It's not some kind of secret that the two of you are close. If it was, it wasn't a very good one."

Will made a sharp huff and went back to shuffling and organizing the desk in front of him.

"It must make it easier, really. You don't ever need a counselor. You just stop by and talk to your friend. That's not really counseling, right? It's just a friend helping a friend?" Amy watched his reaction as he continued his sorting, not looking at her. "So, how long were the two of you dating?"

That got his attention. His head snapped up and one eyebrow was raised. "Who told you that?" he asked.

"You did," she replied as his eyes opened even wider. "And then the captain confirmed it."

"Did he?" Will asked skeptically.

"Well, actually when I asked him about you in his ready room, he said I would need to talk to you about that, but if the captain of the flagship of the federation squirming can be construed as a non verbal answer…Yes, he did."

"I see," Will said looking back to the desk.

"So…how long were you two dating?" she repeated the question.

"It was a long time ago. I don't know what it would have to do with this," he told her.

"Okay. Then how would you define your relationship with her?"

Will blew out a deep breath and sat down heavily in Deanna's chair. "We're friends."

"Like she and…say Commander Laforge…are friends?"

Will shrugged with his hands that rested on the top of the desk as he leaned back a bit in her chair. "We're good friends. The best of friends."

"You spent the day in sickbay with her today."

"Do you spy on people?" he asked her.

"I'm just observant."

"And?" Will asked wondering where she was going with this.

"You seem more than good friends," she said simply. "To me, a casual observer, who doesn't know you at all…I'm just trying to understand."

Will shrugged again and continued sorting. "What's there to understand? We're friends, closer than most, but nothing more," he said as he picked up Deanna's personal calendar. The third line down, on Thursday evening it read, _Date with Will 20:00_. Then scrawled underneath it said, _Surprise? I don't think so… _Will smiled to himself as he tossed the calendar in the case with the other items he deemed personal.

Was there a word for in between, he wondered to himself? Since Deanna had stopped seeing Worf, they were even closer than they had been before. They spent time together. They even planned dates, or adventures together, in the holodeck, in the arboretum…occasionally they kissed goodnight and he wondered if it meant more than a simple gesture. Once, it had continued for a few minutes, before Deanna had pushed him away and told him good night. It was like standing at a doorway and not knowing how to walk through it, though it seemed they were headed in that general direction.

But only a month ago, a group of scientists had been aboard, and when one of them clearly showed an interest in her, she didn't discourage him. Just the opposite in fact. He had sat and watched her flirt with him in ten forward. It was irritating as hell. Though, in all fairness, two weeks prior he had slept with Lt. Commander Stevens, their outgoing nasel supervisor. She was leaving for a new assignment the next day, and she was pretty and clearly coming on to him and he'd thought- what the hell? So there wasn't a whole lot of substance or personality behind the pretty face, but what harm could it do? It hadn't been great sex, but it was okay, and a good way to blow off some steam. He could barely remember the last time before that, it had been so long. And even though he thought maybe there was something there with Deanna, he was fairly certain that sex was not going to be happening any time soon. That was like a door beyond the one he didn't know how to walk though. He let out a heavy sigh and looked back at the counselor who sat patiently in her chair. Thankfully, she was human and not empathic**.**

"So, do you want to talk about how you are feeling regardingwhat happened on the away mission?"

Will took another picture from Deanna's desk. It was a picture of her, Geordi, Beverly and him on shore leavea few years ago. He put it in the case. "No."

"Is there anything you would do differently if you had to do it all again?" she asked.

Will thought about that for a moment, replaying the scene in his head. "I would have gone back for her," he finally said quietly.

"You did go back for her Commander."

"No. I wouldn't have left her there alone. I could have protected her."

"Did you ask to be transported off the surface with the ambassador?" Amy asked him gently.

"No, but communications were poor. I don't think Data understood…"

"Are you angry that Data gave the order to transport you?"

Again Will paused to think about that. "No. It's not his fault."

"So is there anything else you would do differently?"

Will closed the case in front of him and stood up. "I wouldn't have had her there at all," he finally said.

"Whose decision was it for her to be there?"

"The captain overrode me."

"Are you angry with the captain?"

Will thought again and with a heavy sigh sunk back into the chair. "He was right. I don't know if we would have found the ambassador without her."

"Was it worth the sacrifice?" she asked him.

Will put his head in his hands. But Lieutenant Soto waited patiently for her answer. "I don't know," he finally told her.

….

Deanna lay in her bed in sick bay wrapped in the blanket Will had brought her, staring intently at a spot on the wall. She felt tired, in spite of apparently sleeping for days. She had spoken to her mother that morning. She knew she needed to, but the sheer emotion of it bombarded her senses. To her mother's credit she tried to shield her emotions from her daughter, but she could not take away Deanna's psychological training and her ability to almost unconsciously interpret her mother's body language. She had 'encouraged' Deanna to return home and Deanna had expected that. But when Deanna assured her that she was fine where she was and her mother launched into a tirade including threatening to contact the captain and make him take her home immediately, Deanna felt her temper rage. She had screamed at her that she was capable of making her own decisions and that she would not allow her mother to interfere.

She felt awful. She shouldn't have screamed. Her mother looked horrified. Why was it that her temper was so near to the surface? She hadn't been able to sleep last night. Somehow it seemed like there was a monster waiting just behind her eyes, waiting for her to dose off.

She couldn't relax. And Will had said he would be back after the staff meeting, that they could talk more. But he had not come, and she was angry, more than she had any logical right to be. He had not left her side all day. She had no right to ask more from him. She didn't really have a right to ask anything of him at all. This was her problem and she had to face it alone. And yet, she couldn't help but feel somehow abandoned.

She had spent the morning trying to read, but finding that her concentration was short lived. Her mind kept jumping from one thing to the next with no pattern or organization, as if continuing to move would keep the horrible pictures of dark, sweltering rooms from her mind.

She tried to think of Will for a moment, but the swirl of emotions was almost too much for her. Why had he not come? Was he uncomfortable with the way she had behaved the day before? Did he not want to be with her anymore? She didn't want to be a burden on him, or an obligation he had out of guilt, but there was so much she suddenly felt like she needed to say to him, and he wasn't here. Even if he were, she would probably not have the courage to follow through.

And there it was again. Anger. How was it that after all these years she still didn't know if she was coming or going with this man? Why was it, whenever she began to believe in what she felt from him, when she tried to lower her guard, he pulled back? He would walk out of Ten Forward with Lt. Commander Stevens, or someone else. Maybe it didn't matter. He was her friend, always, and it was probably better that way. No one would want her now anyway.

Immediately her mind flashed with images of dark places, hard ground and men yelling all around her, screaming at her, telling her she was worthless, as they stripped her naked, throwing her face down in the dirt as something lashed across her back. Again and again she tried to get up, only to be knocked down by the whip lashing into her skin, until she just lay there on the ground, in too much pain to move or fight back. It seemed like a long time that she lay like that, before someone rolled her over and the ground dug into the wounds on her back causing her to scream out in pain.

He had grabbed her around the throat, closing off her air supply, and spat in her face, telling her she would show him respect. She couldn't even move as he began to rape her. Every movement caused excruciating pain, and if she dared make a sound he would begin to strangle her again. As he continued with more vigor, the sheer friction, his body on top of her, her back against the ground, him inside of her, the only moisture, between them being blood from where she could feel her own tender skin tearing as he forced himself into her…it all matched the pain in her soul. She tried to focus on something else, something far away from where she was, something that would let her mentally transport herself away from what was happening to her body, but the pain was too much. It dragged her back and made her cry out.

When his hand closed around her throat again, he did not let go. As she fought for breath, a piece of her saw the darkness closing in around her, swimming at the edge of her vision, and she realized it was almost over. She would not be in pain much longer, and whether she would merely loose consciousness or if she would die, didn't seem to matter much. The only image that made her struggle for breath at all was that of her friends bringing home her naked, broken body to her mother and what they all would think of her. She had not even fought back in the end, she thought. That would be their last memory of her life.

….

Deanna wrapped the blanket tighter around herself as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. She could still feel the ache in her body, though she knew that all the wounds had been repaired. She focused again on the spot on the wall and forced her mind to empty of everything, become numb again as it had been so often on the planet.

When the doors to her room opened, she gave no immediate response. She heard whoever it was walk in a few steps and then pause. She could have opened her mind enough to know who it was without looking, but with it would come the emotions that she had just rid herself of. Instead she slowly tore her eyes away from that precious spot on the wall, the one that let her stay sane. When she did, she met the gaze of a young woman, her black hair pulled away from her face, wearing a blue Star Fleet uniform.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you," the woman told her. "Doctor Crusher said that now would be a good time." She waited for Deanna to speak, but she didn't. She only looked at her. "My name is Amy Soto. I am a crisis counselor with Star Fleet headquarters. I work with Admiral Hayden. He speaks very highly of you," she told her and waited again for Deanna's reply, but she did not get one. "I'm here…"

Deanna was now sitting up straight in bed, as much dignity as she could muster in her current condition, her jaw clenched tight as she felt the rage course though her body again. "As my replacement," Deanna finished for her, as she looked at her coldly.

"No, I am only attending to your duties until you are able to return to your post," Amy told her, hoping she sounded kind and reassuring. "I assure you, I have no desire to remain aboard the Enterprise or any other vessel long term."

Deanna cocked one eyebrow as if to show that she didn't believe her. "In any case, a tour aboard the flagship of the federation certainly will not hurt your career opportunities," she replied.

"I suppose that's true," Amy admitted. "But it is not the reason I'm here."

"You're here to fix me, since I'm clearly broken," Deanna said sarcastically, as she resituated herself in her bed, looking away from this woman for the first time.

Lieutenant Soto sighed slightly, deciding to take a different tack. "I am only here to assist you, Counselor. If you would like to talk, I would be more than happy to listen and help in any way I can. Until then I will be satisfied with the names of your emergent patients that will need follow up care as you continue your recovery."

Deanna sat quietly for a moment trying to find her rational self. And then just trying to remember what her life was like two weeks before. "Lieutenant Taug," she finally said breaking the silence that had filled the room. "His wife died two months ago on their home planet."

"And Lieutenant Taug serves in…?"

"Security," Deanna replied blankly.

"Is there anyone else emergent that I should be worried about?"

Deanna shrugged slightly. "Lieutenant and Ensign Rause are having a few marital problems. They have only been married a few months and serving in the same chain of command and working together so much…they are having a little trouble trying to learn to balance work and home." Deanna sighed. Perhaps the idea of someone else listening to the two young officer's whining wouldn't be such a bad thing. Still she felt defensive about the woman standing in her room. "I'll have someone go by my office and clear out my personal things so that you may use it."

"Oh, thank you, but Commander Riker has already taken care of it." Amy told her, glad that she seemed to be warming to the idea. "He did that last night while we talked."

"You and Commander Riker?" Deanna asked skeptically. "Will Riker?"

"Is there another Commander Riker on board?" Amy asked slightly puzzled.

"No, it's just that…"

"He doesn't take to it well?" Amy asked her.

"Counseling? Not particularly," Deanna replied.

"It was a bit rough at first, but eventually he began to talk. We talked for hours last night. I think it was very beneficial for him."

"Is that where he was after the staff meeting?" Deanna asked with what she hoped sounded like idle curiosity.

"Yes. I think it was helpful for him to clean out your office while we talked. Having something physical to do seemed to put him more at ease."

Deanna squirmed slightly in her bed. Her hands were starting to tremble, and she couldn't say why. Her blood was boiling in her veins. Was it jealousy? He had left her for this new counselor, a newer, younger version of herself? Deanna realized she was breathing harder and faster and took two steady slow breaths, in and out, to calm herself down. Then she shook her head, as if to clear it from irrational emotions. This woman was not competition. She was here to help, and if Will needed help, needed to talk to someone, that was a good thing. Her head came back up to meet this woman. But it should have been her. He could always talk to her.

"Counselor," Amy began. "Would you like to talk about it?" she asked tentatively taking a step towards her.

"About what?" Deanna said, her volume rising. "What is it you want to know, Counselor?" Deanna asked snidely, her anger and resentment at what had happened to her and being replaced getting the better of her. "You want me to tell you what it was like to be beaten and raped for six days? It was horrific and painful. You want to know how it feels? You can't!"

"You're angry," Amy stated simply.

"Damn right I'm angry!"

"Who are you angry with?" Amy asked.

Deanna paused her tirade to consider the question.

But after a moment's silence, Amy began speaking slowly and softly. "Being angry with me would be quite understandable. I am invading your territory. It's a very natural human response."

"I'm Betazoid," Deanna mumbled.

"No, you are half Betazoid, half Human," Amy corrected her. "I've learned a great deal about you in the last few days. I've read your file, talked to several of your friends…"

"Please, don't psychoanalyze me," Deanna told her, almost begging.

"Why?"

"It's annoying," Deanna said glaring at her.

"It frightens you, doesn't it? Letting me in, someone you don't know or trust? It was easier to talk to Commander Riker yesterday, wasn't it?"

"What did he tell you?" she asked as if accusing them of colluding against her.

"He's worried that you are very angry with him. Dr. Crusher tells me that you two were yelling at one another yesterday. She also mentioned that you yelled at your mother this morning when you were speaking to her over sub space."

"So what?" Deanna asked. She was growing more and more defensive.

"It concerned me that you are so angry with people who clearly care so much about you. May I ask what about your conversation with your mother upset you?"

Deanna struggled again to calm herself. "She wants me to come home."

"Not an unreasonable request from a mother under the circumstances," Amy offered.

"She needs to respect my choices. Why is it that no one thinks I'm capable of making decisions about myself? My mother wants me home, the Captain replaces me, Beverly won't let me leave!"

"When you were on the planet, you had no say in what happened to you. No control over your life, your body…" Amy paused and gauged her patient's reaction. "It is natural to seek a great amount of control now to compensate somehow. But the people who care about you most only want what's best for you. They want to help, not hurt you. Unlike those on the planet, they have only the best of intentions. None of what they are trying to do is about power or control."

Deanna pulled her legs up to her chest again and hugged them close to her body, her eyes down.

"Do you want to go home, Deanna? If it were your decision, where would you be right now?"

"It doesn't matter where I am. I'm still alone."

"Why do you say that?" Amy asked her.

"Because I'm alone. I have to do this alone."

"Commander Riker…"

"Commander Riker doesn't understand," Deanna interrupted.

"He wants to," Amy offered.

"No. I'm alone. I am in here like a caged animal, a specimen to be analyzed. Alone."

"You think your friends have left you?" Amy asked her, her voice soft and low.

Deanna didn't answer, but began slowly rocking back and forth.

"Like they left you on the planet?"

"They don't know what to say to me. It's easier to avoid me."

"Perhaps. It's possible that they are dealing with their own emotions about what you have been through and do not want to appear glib by saying that they're 'really sorry'. It's also possible that Dr. Crusher has asked them to respect your space, and hasn't allowed them to visit you."

"Has she?" Deanna asked puzzled, looking up to study her.

"They have not left you, Deanna. Even on the planet, they never abandoned you. They never stopped working to bring you home. I know that you must have felt very alone…"

"They all got off the planet, but me. He left." Deanna's voice was just a whisper.

"Who? Commander Riker?" Amy asked.

"And then he found me and I thought I was safe, and he left me again."

"I know that logically, you understand why he did that," Amy said to her. "But I also know that understanding something logically doesn't always make it emotionally easier."

Deanna tried to steel herself against the grief again threatening to overtake her. Her chin began to quiver as she fought the tears filling her eyes. She searched in vain for the spot on the wall, to force everything from her mind.

"Deanna," Amy said, for the first time, reaching out to her and placing her hand on Deanna's arm. "You are not alone, unless you want to be. In which case I have no doubt in my mind that every man, woman and child on this ship would respect your decision. Don't mistake their caution, and desire to give you what you need as abandonment. You are not alone." She took her hand back and smiled gently. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to look in on you again tomorrow and see how you are."

Deanna nodded faintly.

"Thank you, Counselor. And if you would like to talk, ever, just ask. It's okay to ask for what you need. Even if that's a friend." With a nod, Amy Soto turned and left the room, and Deanna let a single tear slip down her cheek, before wiping it away and turning onto her side, facing the wall and letting her mind go numb again.

Amy Soto walked through the main bay from Deanna's room to the office of the chief medical officer, and peaked her head in.

"How did it go?" Beverly asked looking up from her work.

"It was a start," Amy said with a shrug. "Doctor, your patient is feeling very alone and isolated. I know you mean well to try to protect her and give her the time and space that she needs, but perhaps it would be better to let her be in control of who she sees and when. The other members of the senior staff are feeling awkward enough about how to interact with her. Don't give them an excuse to stay away. They are her friends, right?" she asked.

Beverly nodded.

"She needs her friends. Even you."

"I was in there with her for an hour this morning. She barely spoke to me," Beverly said desperately.

"No, Doctor Crusher was in with her patient. She needs her friend Beverly. And she might not talk. That's really not important." Amy smiled at the doctor comfortingly. "Have a good evening Doctor. I will check in on her again tomorrow."


	8. Found 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

To my Readers: I love reviews, all of them, but I hate that I can't respond to anonymous reviews, so I guess I will do it here. First of all, I apologize for not being smart enough to know the date. Clearly I was distracted. I hope you can find your way here, none the less. Also, I didn't feel unduly rushed. I take it as a huge compliment that you want to read what I have written. I do, however feel bad that I can not write it or complete it faster. So be patient. I haven't written a word past what you are now reading, so it may be a little while. As for the last couple of reviews, I thought maybe the criticism was a little harsh, but I don't mind. Characters take time to tell us how they are feeling. One moment does not make a complete character. The poor woman has been awake for like a paragraph and a half. Give her some time. And I was hoping to illustrate in the last chapter as well as this one that she is not, in fact, trying to get a boy to like her, but that she can't deal with that relationship at this point. It's too complicated. And that this situation has made her question all of her relationships. Where are her friends? And how do they feel about her now? I hope I do it better in this one. If not, I'm sure you will tell me and I'll give it another attempt. Happy Reading!

**Chapter 8**

Deanna picked at the food she had been brought for dinner. Her body was aching and her fever lingered. It would be another hour before the doctor on shift could give her another dose of medication for it and it wasn't unbearable, so she just squirmed uncomfortably in her bed and picked at her food. She was glad no one was there to watch as she ate. She wasn't sure she could take it. After a while of picking at her food, she slowly slipped out of her bed and waited until she was steady on her feet. She still felt light headed when she stood up. Then she took her food and disposed of it.

She made her way back to her bed, breathing heavy from exertion, and stretched her legs, rotating her left ankle as if to check to make sure it was whole again.

The door chime rang and Deanna looked up, unsure of what to make of it. She had been alone most of the day except for medical personnel and the visit from Lieutenant Soto.

She kept wondering what was happening on the ship around her that she was oblivious to.

"Come in," she called as she eased herself back into he bed.

The doors opened and Alexander Rozhenko stood in front of his father. Worf looked like he was straining to appear more comfortable than he actually was.

Deanna looked at the little boy as he hovered in the doorway. "Well, hello," she said gently.

"Counselor," Worf nodded to her.

When Deanna smiled Alexander burst free from his place by his father and scrambled up next to her on the bed and threw his arms around her neck. "I missed you," Alexander told her.

Deanna returned his hug. "I missed you too," she told him.

"Alexander!" his father bellowed.

"It's alright, Worf." Deanna looked over at him and gave him a look to tell him not to interfere. "It's alright."

"Father said you were hurt," Alexander told her. "Are you okay, now?" he asked kneeling next to her on the bed.

"I'll be all better in no time," she said smoothing his hair and smiling at him.

"What happened?" he asked innocently. Deanna looked over to meet Worf's concerned face where he hovered near the door.

"Your father and I had to try to help some people, and I fell and got hurt," Deanna told him.

"Father was worried about you," Alexander told her. "He didn't come home one night."

Deanna looked back to Worf, who looked away. "Your father was trying to help me come home and get better," Deanna said.

"I drew you a picture," Alexander told her reaching into his pocket and bringing out a piece of paper. He handed it to her proudly. Deanna smiled and held it out to look at.

"Well, thank you, Alexander. It's wonderful. Is this me?" she asked pointing at a figure by a tree.

Alexander nodded.

"Well, I love it."

"I wanted to bring it to you this morning, but Father said I wasn't allowed to see you yet," Alexander said, sounding a bit disgruntled.

Again Deanna met Worf's eyes before he looked away. "Well, I'm glad you came now."

"We should be going. The doctor says you still require additional rest." Worf said.

"Father," Alexander pleaded, snuggling up to Deanna.

"Alexander," he said more sternly.

"I will hang your picture on the wall," Deanna told him. "And I'll let you go, but you have to promise to come see me again tomorrow."

"Really?" Alexander asked happily.

"After school," Worf ordered.

"Yes, after school," Deanna agreed.

"Okay," Alexander said scooting off the bed.

"Now, why don't you wait outside for a moment and give your father and I a chance to talk," Deanna encouraged him. With a nod, he left the room and Deanna looked up to see Worf shift awkwardly.

When the door was closed behind his son, Worf took one step towards her and spoke. "I am glad you are home safely," he told her.

"Thank you," Deanna replied.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Deanna sighed. "I'm tired right now," she told him.

"I apologize if we bothered you, but Alexander was concerned."

"I'm glad you came by," she told him. "I wanted to see you."

This seemed to make Worf even more uncomfortable. "I am unsure of how to react…how you would be comfortable…"

"I just wanted to say thank you," she interrupted him. "I know that you all worked very hard to bring me home, and I am grateful." Deanna watched to see his reaction. He was having trouble looking at her and it made her stomach turn.

"I should be going," he told her. "Alexander and I are supposed to be meeting with Lieutenant Soto soon."

"Lieutenant Soto?" Deanna asked. "Is everything alright?"

"The captain ordered the entire senior staff to have one meeting with her. I was asked to bring Alexander." Worf was clearly unhappy. "He was concerned about you, and I did not exactly know what I should tell him."

"I'm sure that you did just fine," Deanna tried to reassure him, but he still would not look at her for more than a glance.

"Thank you for allowing Alexander to see you," he said stepping towards the door.

"Worf," she called, but he did not stop.

"Good night, Counselor," he said without looking back at her and then he was gone.

When the doctor came in with her medication a while later, she began almost immediately to feel sleep overtake her. It was a relief to not have to think anymore. Her eyes closed and she pulled her blanket up around her as she drifted off to sleep.

….

Amy Soto began her work day by arranging some of her files in a pile on the desk in the counselor's office, straight and neat. She was surprised by the chime at the door. She was not expecting anyone. "Please come in," she called.

It was Commander Data who entered the office. She did not know much about the android, but what she did know was that he did not have emotions, therefore making his need for a counselor moot. "Commander Data, what a surprise," she told him.

"Counselor, I was hoping that you might have a moment to meet with me," Data said waiting patiently by the door.

"Of course. May I call you Data? You can call me Amy," she offered. "Come in. Have a seat. What can I do for you?"

"The captain ordered us all to speak with you," Data reminded her. "But I noticed that you made appointments with the rest of the senior staff, but not myself."

"Did that bother you?" Amy asked puzzled.

"I am required to follow orders," Data said simply.

"But Data, the others are being asked to discuss their feelings about what happened to Counselor Troi, and their part in it. It was my impression that you did not feel emotion, so I'm not sure how I can help you."

"I still have responsibility for the events that transpired," Data offered. "Do I not?"

Amy cocked her head to one side and sat on the couch next to him. "Do you feel responsible?" she asked awkwardly.

"It is unfortunate that Counselor Troi was hurt," he said. "I could have perhaps acted in a way that contributed to her pain."

"Interesting," Amy answered. "I think many of you would do things differently, knowing what you know now. That's a common…um,"

"Emotional response?" Data asked.

Amy smiled. "I've never worked with an android before, forgive me."

Data nodded. "I did not come to speak with you simply to fulfill an order," Data confessed. "I wanted your advice on a topic."

"Of course," Amy said, motioning for him to continue.

"While I may not experience emotions, at least not in a human way, Counselor Troi does. I would like to visit her, and offer her comfort."

"I think that sounds lovely, Data."

"However, I do not know how best to console her. I have read many papers on the subject of sexual assault and the recovery process in the last few days, but none of them thoroughly addressed the roles that supporters played in the recovery to give me a frame of reference. There is a psychological theory…"

"Data," Amy interrupted him. "Is Counselor Troi your friend?" she asked.

"Yes. That is the reason that I wish to assist her in the most efficient manner."

"Data, Counselor Troi values you for who you are. Maybe you should worry less about psychological theories of recovery and just be yourself."

"But…" Data hesitated. "What if Counselor Troi has an emotional reaction to me? Blames me, or is uncomfortable because I am male?"

"Well, in that case, I think it would be best to remember that she is not quite herself and not to take it personally. But, on the other hand…she may be fine. She may even be happy to have a visitor," she told him.

"I do not know what to say to her," Data admitted.

"Try bringing her a gift," Amy suggested. "It's not only a caring gesture, but it's an excellent ice breaker."

"A gift?"

"Something she can use while she is cooped up in sickbay, perhaps."

"Hmm," Data said as he nodded. "Thank you, Counselor. This has been very enlightening."

Amy looked surprised. "You're welcome, Commander. Have a nice day," she added as he walked to the door.

Data entered Deanna's sickbay room.

"Data," she said surprised, placing the PADD she had in her hand on the table next to the bed. "You just missed Commander Riker. Come in," she gestured to a chair next to her bed where Will had just been sitting.

"Were you reading?" Data asked.

Deanna sighed. "Trying," she admitted. "I seem to be having an attention span problem," she told him, shaking her head at herself. "How are you?"

"I am functioning within normal parameters," Data offered, then added, "Thank you for asking." He sat in the chair and the two of them watched one another for a moment. "I brought you something," Data added handing her a box with a bow around it. "Counselor Soto recommended that I bring you something that you could use while cooped up in sickbay. I heard Commander Riker mention that the doctor had you on a limited amount of food options, all healthy, to hasten your recovery. So I thought this might make you happy," Data told her as she unwrapped the bow and lifted the lid of the box to reveal a box of chocolates.

"Data," Deanna gasped. "This is a bit rebellious for you," she chuckled. "Thank you. I'll have to find a place to hide them where Beverly won't get a hold of them."

The two of them fell into silence.

"Counselor?" Data finally asked.

"Yes?" Deanna looked over at him as he sat in the chair.

"I am sorry for what you have been through, and I am pleased that you are back aboard."

"Thank you, Data," Deanna told him.

"I hope that none of this will affect our friendship," he said smiling slightly at her.

Deanna reached down and took his hand. "We'll be fine, Data. I'm glad you are here."

"You do not need to entertain me, Counselor. You may go back to what you were doing, if you would prefer, but if you do not object, I will sit with you for a while longer."

Deanna chuckled slightly under her breath. "Thank you, Data." She felt odd as if he were watching her for a moment as she put the chocolates down on the table and picked up the PADD. It was nice to know that she didn't have to try to force a conversation, but unusual, all the same. She browsed through the PADD that contained mostly news updates from Betazed, but they couldn't hold her attention. Her stomach was upset and she was feeling more than a bit restless. Eventually she gave up and laid on her side, facing her guest. "I might take a nap," she told him

"Rest would be a wise choice to help your body recover," he told her in his matter of fact way. Somehow it made her smile. There was no pressure with Data, no emotions to filter through. It was, for some reason, very comforting. She pulled the blanket Will had brought her when she first woke up, closer around her shoulder and closed her eyes. She had only experienced short periods of sleep over the last few days, interrupted by fitful nightmares, and she was still very tired.

She laid still and tried to fall asleep for several minutes, but eventually curiosity got the better of her swirling mind and she peaked out of one eye to see what Data was doing. Data appeared to be staring at an indistinguishable spot on the wall opposite her, intent and clearly deep in thought.

"Data," she asked softly, opening her eyes.

"Yes, Counselor?" he said, bringing his focus back to her.

"What were you just thinking about?" she asked him, curiously.

"Just before you spoke?"

Deanna nodded.

"I was working on an algorithm for the degeneration of dilithium crystals for Commander LaForge, reviewing a work of poetry by Charles Dickens that the captain had mentioned, scanning through several psychological papers on sexual assault for references on how to best offer support, and…" Data paused.

"And?" Deanna encouraged him to continue.

"And observing your breathing pattern."

"My breathing pattern?" Deanna asked, in awe of how her friend's mind could be as scattered as hers and yet be completely organized.

"It is altered from your baseline before the away mission," he told her.

Deanna scrunched her eyebrows as if trying to understand. "I am breathing differently?" she asked again.

"Yes. I was hypothesizing that it may be a result of one of the medications that you are currently taking or that it may be induced by your recurrent fevers. Of course it could also be a result of stress or trauma. Any or all of which would be understandable given the circumstances," Data concluded. "Counselor, if my being here is precluding you from resting, I should go," he said rising from his seat.

"No, Data. I like you being here," Deanna said, reaching out for his hand again. "Will you stay for a bit longer?"

"Of course," Data replied, sitting back into the chair, but he was careful not to pull his hand away from where Deanna held it tightly.

Deanna closed her eyes again and tried to drift off, but now all she could think about was how she was breathing, and why, and how did it differ from the way she normally breathed, and… how did she normally breathe?

Eventually, Data felt her grip on his hand loosen as her breathing pattern again changed, though it was still off her baseline. She was asleep. Data watched for a moment longer before getting up and, without a sound, heading for the door. He glanced back over his shoulder at his sleeping friend and the box of chocolates caught his eye. She had not eaten any, not even one. That was also abnormal behavior for Deanna Troi. Perhaps she was not feeling well enough to desire to eat sweets, he rationalized, before slipping out of her door.

Deanna spent the next few days resting and talking with the visitors scattered throughout her day. Geordi had stopped by and brought her flowers. He had sat on the edge of her bed and talked about not being able to see like other people and how no matter how hard he wished to know what it felt like to see as she did, he never would. He had to come to terms with that, and allowed himself to grieve.

It was interesting to listen to him talk. It wasn't a subject he discussed much, and when he did, it was never with regret or bitterness. But apparently at some point he had felt those emotions. She was grateful that he did not shy away from her. In fact he acted remarkably normal.

Alexander was making a habit of stopping by on his way home from school and crawling up next to her in her bed and telling her about his day.

"Your skin is hot," he told her one afternoon as she hugged him. And it was true. The infection in her blood was proving more stubborn than Beverly had anticipated, and her fevers were occasionally rather worrisome.

"Are you still sick?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so," she told him.

"How long do you have to stay here?" he asked, as he leaned against her knees.

"I don't know. Hopefully not too much longer," she said. "I really want to go home. I'm getting a little sick of being sick."

"Maybe the doctor would let you leave if you didn't live by yourself and you had someone to take care of you. You could come home with us. Father wouldn't mind!" Alexander seemed excited by his idea.

Deanna tugged at the young boy's chin to make him look at her. "Alexander," she said a bit sternly.

"I know," he shrugged, sinking down next to her.

It had been very hard to explain to him why she was no longer spending so much time with his father. She still tried to be there for him, as she'd promised Worf she would be. But Worf seemed to need a distance between the two of them and it only made things more complicated. Worf had not returned to sickbay. She supposed that she shouldn't have expected him to. Beverly kept telling her no one was judging her, but Deanna had a sense that was not entirely true. She could hear Worf's words in her head, ' A Klingon would rather die than be captured'. No matter what had happened, Deanna knew that in Worf's mind, she had let this happen to herself. She hadn't fought hard enough. Maybe it was better that he didn't come by. The way he had refused to look at her had only left her feeling dirty and ashamed.

That night after Deanna had picked at her dinner and disposed of the evidence, she sat in her bed, again glancing through things that Will had brought her on his daily stops. Sometimes he stayed longer than others. He always had something for her to keep her had, under the encouragement of Lieutenant Soto, who was also a daily visitor, started to keep a journal of her emotions, her experiences, what her flashbacks were about and what triggered them. It was difficult and slow going, but she understood the psychological benefits to it and so she continued.

When the door opened, Dr. Crusher stepped in with a small bag in her hand. "Busy?" she asked.

Deanna shook her head. "The nurse just took all my vital signs. Do we really need to do it again?" she asked irritated.

"I'm not here to take your vital signs or poke or prod, I promise. In fact, Dr. Crusher is off duty for the evening," she told her. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind if your friend Beverly visited."

Deanna sighed and looked down, a bit ashamed at her angry response to her friend. But Beverly understood. She had been trying for the better part of three days to switch hats and find some time to spend with Deanna, but her septic infection was not clearing up and it was requiring a great deal of her focus. Today, however, her white blood cell count was dropping and she had not had a fever since noon and Beverly was finally taking heart, wanting to spend some time with her friend.

"So can I come in?" Beverly asked.

"Of course," Deanna replied.

Beverly walked to the end of the bed and sat down. She pulled from the bag a few colors of nail polish. "You may not be ableto go get your nails done, but we can do them here," Beverly offered. "What do ya'say?"

Deanna was surprised. Beverly had been all business over the past few days and she didn't know exactly what to make of it. "Sure," she finally told her.

"Great!" Beverly jumped off the bed. "You pick a color, and I will prove to you that I am not the doctor this evening." She made her way over to the replicator and got two hot chocolates, and some cookies. She carried them back to the bed and put them down. Then she opened the drawer where Deanna had put the chocolates Data had brought her.

"We'll need these as well," she said placing them with the other food and scooting Deanna over to make room for her on the bed.

"You knew about those, huh?"

"You will find there is very little that goes on in my sickbay that I don't know about," Beverly told her. She opened the box and saw that all the chocolates were still there. "My, my. What an obedient patient!" Beverly told her. "Just wait till I tell Will that you listened to me instead of eating his chocolates."

Deanna had dropped her gaze back to the blanket. She simply wasn't ready to have that confrontation. Not tonight, when her friend, rather than the doctor had magically appeared. "Actually, Data brought me those," she confessed.

"Data?" Beverly was stunned. "How openly rebellious of him!"

"I know!"

"Good for you, Data," Beverly said going back to her nail polish. "Red?" she asked.

Deanna shook her head shyly. She wasn't comfortable being that bold. "What about this one?" she asked picking up a tube that was almost lavender in color, soft and understated.

Beverly smiled. It was not what Deanna usually would have chosen, but these were not normal circumstances. "I think it's pretty," she said. "Fingers or toes?"

"Toes," Deanna replied, pulling her feet out from under the sheet. Beverly grabbed them and tucked them up next to her as she began to paint her friend's toenails.

Deanna picked up her hot chocolate and began to sip at it gingerly, fighting the urge to panic as Beverly watched her. She hoped that drinking it would draw her friend's attention away from the fact that she was not eating. Swallowing with someone watching her was bad enough. She didn't know that she could chew food.

"So," Beverly began cautiously. "What do you think of Lieutenant Soto?"

"My replacement, you mean?" Deanna asked. Beverly gave her a cross look, but continued what she was doing. "She's fine," Deanna said shortly. "Actually, she's better than fine. She's actually quite good. I keep ending up talking about things I had no intention of sharing and I don't know why. It's irritating, actually. And the better she is, the more I don't like her."

Beverly began to laugh. "Well, as far as it being irritating, now you know how we feel. As for you not liking her…I don't give you enough credit for your competitive streak."

"I know. I'm awful," Deanna admitted. "How about you? Have you seen her yet?"

"Yes, as has most of my medical staff."

"And…" Deanna asked.

Beverly just shrugged. "She told me to come paint your nails," Beverly said sarcastically.

Deanna made a face in response but then they both fell into an awkward silence.

"You know, you can talk about it, if you want to," Beverly offered.

"I don't," Deanna almost whispered.

Beverly nodded. "Well in that case, can I whine to you about my job?" Beverly asked.

Deanna smiled and nodded.

"Dr. Turner…" Beverly began.

"The new cute one?" Deanna asked.

"Yes! He seems to be making quick work of bedding my entire nursing staff!"

"Really," Deanna said intrigued. "Certainly not the _entire _nursing staff?"

"He's well on his way!" Beverly replied. "I don't know what to do with him. I've tried to talk to him, but… Ahhh," she sighed. "I was thinking about making Commander Riker do it."

"Interesting choice," Deanna said with a raise of her eyebrows. "And what is it that you would expect Will to tell him?"

"I don't know. That shagging women you work with, right and left, makes your work day, and quite frankly _my_ work day, more difficult!"

"And you thought Commander Riker would be the best choice for this?" Deanna asked skeptically. "Wouldn't it usually be preferable if the teacher of the lesson had actually learned the lesson?"

"Oh, she's mean!" Beverly scolded playfully. "I think it is an excellent sign for your recovery."

Deanna chuckled, and blushed slightly.

"Come on, you're too hard on him," Beverly told her, finishing one foot and moving to the other.

"I know," Deanna agreed, solemnly nodding her head.

"He has certainly spenta lot of time here over the last few days," Beverly said and waited for Deanna to reply.

"He just feeling guilty," she said quietly, all hint of a smile disappearing from her face.

Beverly smacked her in the leg with the back of her hand. "That's not true and you know it. That is the most 'feeling sorry for yourself thing' I have ever heard you say! That man would walk barefoot across broken glass and smoldering coals if he thought it would help you. Don't you do that! You know better than that!"

Deanna nodded as she fought the lump in her throat. "You're right," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Guilty," Beverly mumbled under her breath. "In here for hours on end…what is it the two of you are doing in here when your not shouting at the top of your lungs for the whole ship to hear?" Beverly asked smiling at her friend.

Deanna shrugged. "Talking," she told her. "Sometimes we're not talking. I don't know. Yesterday he gave me a neck rub and I fell asleep against him," Deanna said warmly. "I like when he's here. I feel safe."

"Does he know that?" Beverly asked.

Again Deanna shrugged. "I guess so. He keeps coming back."

Beverly put the polish down and focused on her friend. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Deanna paused for a moment. "Yes, of course. I'm fine."

"Deanna," Beverly cautioned.

"I will pick up and I will go on. What is the other alternative?"

"Deanna, you don't have to be fine."

"Yes, I do. I can't live my life hiding away, afraid. I'll move on." She said shaking her head. "It's all there is left to do."

…

Will Riker strode in to her room the following afternoon and tossed a bag at the bottom of her bed. "Hey there, Sunshine! Want a surprise?" he asked.

Deanna looked back at him skeptically. "I don't know. Do I?"

"You do," he told her, placing a light kiss on her forehead.

"Okay," she said tentatively.

"You have been fever free for almost 18 hours, and Dr. Crusher has given you permission to take a walk. Escorted, of course, by yours truly."

"A walk?" she asked him.

"Yeah, you know, one foot in front of the other…walk…as in getting out of sickbay, at least temporarily! Come on!" he said pulling at her sheets.

"Where to?" Deanna was still unsure of this idea. She had become safe in this room as much as she hated it.

"I was thinking the arboretum. That grove of cherry trees in the back are blooming. What do ya think?"

Deanna looked down at her pajamas, and thought of the people she would undoubtedly pass. "Will, I can't. I look awful."

"Alright, woman," he said taking her blanket from her. "A- no one cares how you look. They'll just be glad to know you're alive. And B- look in the bag," he told her impatiently.

Deanna leaned down and opened the bag. It had a simple fitted shirt and black pants folded in it as well as a pair of panties and a bra. She looked back up at him. "You went through my underwear?" she asked incredulously.

Will shrugged. "I took as little pleasure in it as humanly possible, I promise," he said making a crossing motion across his heart.

"Shoes?" she asked.

"Under the pants. Come on! Let's go! Get changed and let's get out of here before Beverly changes her mind!" He helped her off the bed and scooted her towards her bathroom.

She was more sure on her feet, now that the fever was gone, and she hurried into the bathroom to change. It was like a weight had been lifted from her body, as the infection finally cleared.

A few minutes later Deanna stepped back into the room dressed in the clothes Will had brought, her hair hanging over her shoulder in a loose braid. Her skin was still paler than usual, and she had put just a bit of gloss on her lips, hoping it would do.

Will whistled at her as she stepped into the room. She looked back at him, sitting on her bed, a big smile on his face and she shook her head.

"Hey, I'm as fond as the next guy of seeing you in sleep wear, don't get me wrong, but this," he gestured to her. "This is a step up."

"Oh, shut up," she told him as he walked towards her.

"You look beautiful," he told her slipping his arm around her shoulder.

"Are you going to be this intolerable the whole time?" she asked him.

"Nah, I'm usually much better behaved when we're in public," he said as they walked out the door of her room into the main bay.

Beverly was hovering waiting for them. "Just take it easy," Beverly told her as they walked towards the door leaving sickbay. "Don't overexert yourself, and if you get fatigued…"

Will turned them both around to face her. "If she gets fatigued, I'll carry her home. Relax Mom, it's just a walk," he said mockingly. He spun Deanna around and took her towards the door. Will turned back to Beverly as Deanna stepped out the door into the corridor. "And I'll have her home before curfew, I swear."

"Get out!" Beverly replied.

"I wouldn't want you to ground her!" Now he was teasing the doctor, just to watch her getting irritated.

"Out!" Beverly called turning away and walked back into her office.

Will snickered as he turned to Deanna. She stood in the corridor with one hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. "What was that about behaving better in public?" she asked.

"Oh, come on. That was too easy. I'm done now. I promise." He slipped his arm back around her and steered her through the corridors.

"I think you've had about all the fun you can handle today: first my underwear, then teasing me and Beverly. I think you've just about hit your quota."

Will smiled to himself as they walked. He could feel that she was unsteady, but not like she had been. And she was smiling more easily, even chuckling at his stupid jokes. It was good to see her out of that room, attempting to rejoin society. She did look pale, even maybe a bit skinnier than she had been, he thought glancing at her backside as she stepped into the lift.

They talked as they walked, about the ship, the mapping mission. They talked a bit about Deanna's mother and how Deanna was feeling. They reached the arboretum and strolled amongst the plants and bushes. Deanna had shied away from the other crew members at first. A few said hello, but mostly they smiled kindly and kept their distance. Deanna didn't know what to say to them, really and she felt as though they were looking at her, imagining what had happened to her, picturing it. But the more she saw them kindly smile, the more she let down her walls and took in a sense of what they were feeling. To her surprise it was usually relief or happiness. No one seemed the least bit curious about what she had been through, they were just glad to see her doing well.

"Will, I'm sorry. I'm really tired," she told him as they strolled through the blooming cherry trees. "I know you want to keep walking, but would it be alright if we just…"

"Yeah, of course, here." Will guided her towards a bench that sat back off the path against the trees and they sat down. "So," Will began. "How was your session with Lieutenant Soto this morning?" Will asked as he ran his hand along her shoulders.

Deanna closed her eyes. He didn't know if that meant she was enjoying his touch or if she was annoyed by the question, so he stopped and put his hands in his lap.

"Deanna," he tried again.

"It was fine."

"Dr. Crusher said it sounded more like a brawl."

"Eavesdropping," Deanna muttered.

"I don't think you can call it eavesdropping if you can hear it from outside in the corridor," Will tried to sound somewhat supportive. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Are you going to give me any choice?" she asked.

Will continued rubbing her shoulders. "Sure, we can talk about whatever you want."

"I want to know if you're still talking to her," Deanna said flatly, turning so she could see his face.

"We have talked a few times in the last week and a half, yes."

"And…?"

"And I think it helps me be able to be here with you and help you instead of weighing you down with my issues."

"Yeah, she's just great," she muttered scooting away from him.

"Deanna, come on… she's just trying to help."

"Help herself," she said under her breath.

Will looked back shocked. He had thought that things had been very productive with Deanna's counseling over the past week or so and now she seemed so angry.

"Hey, where's this coming from?"

"Nothing. Just forget it."

"Deanna," he said pulling her back to him so her back was snug up against his chest.

"What were you two talking about?"

"We just disagree and she thinks I'm being irrational, but she just doesn't know him like I do."

"Who?" Will asked puzzled.

"No one, nothing. Forget about it."

"I'm not gonna forget about it, Dea. Tell me."

"You don't want to talk about this," Deanna said shaking her head.

"Worf," Will said beginning to understand.

"He couldn't even look at me," she told him quietly. "I disgusts him."

Will just watched her for a moment as she looked down, digging one foot into the dirt at her feet. "I don't believe that, Deanna. I just don't," he told her, turning her to face him. "Look at me Deanna. I want you to listen to me. Nothing that happened to you was your fault. You did everything right. We got the ambassador out because of you. And you didn't get to see it, but every one of us worked like mad to bring you home. Even Worf, especially Worf. I don't believe for a minute that he is ashamed of you. You…" Will paused to collect his thoughts, shaking his head. "You are tough, and strong, and smart. You got through it and made it home. You won, Deanna. You won. Worf should be proud of how tough you were, how brave you were. I have seen you show more courage in the last three weeks than most people do in a lifetime. He should be proud of you, I know I am. I am so proud of you. And if I'm wrong, and he's not…well to hell with him."

Deanna looked up into Wills face and tried to smile. "Okay. I'm sorry," she said.

"He's got his own emotions about this Dea, we all do. Don't make them about you when they're not."

"Oh, let me guess," she said sitting up a little straighter. "He's been talking to Lieutenant Soto, too."

"Yeah, I think he is."

"Worf?" Deanna asked angrily. "Whatever, let her fix the universe's problems," she muttered.

"She's just trying to help," Will offered again.

"Yes, and she's very good at her job," Deanna told him bitterly. "Apparently Lieutenant Taug is really opening up to her and you seemed to be and now Worf. Is the captain spilling his guts out, too?"

Will ran his hand down her hair and rubbed the back of her neck. "Oh, come on Dea. She's only imitating the master." He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "It's only temporary. Give it another few weeks and you'll be back in your office and poof, she'll be gone. "

Deanna sighed and shook her head. She couldn't look at him. She tried to stand to get away but he tugged her gently back down to his side.

"What?" he asked her. "What is it?"

"What is what?" she asked trying to get up and put some space between them.

"You made a face," he told her, tugging her back down again. "That face," he said pointing at her. "What?" He watched her as she looked down and dug the toe of her shoe back into the dirt. "You don't want your job back," he said slowly, hoping he wasn't right.

"I didn't say that," she said looking back up at his face, almost frightened of his reaction.

"Deanna, how long have you been thinking this?" he asked. His voice was hushed, and his face looked pained.

She only shrugged. "I don't know. Everyone seems to be fine without me, and the idea of listening to someone else's problems, feeling their emotions, … I don't know."

"But don't you think that feeling will go away, or at least get easier over time?" he asked. "I mean is now really the time you want to be making decisions that –"

"I'm not making any decisions," she told him. "It's just a thought. Maybe I should go home. Maybe Betazed would be a better place for me to be right now."

"And this thought was planted in your head by?" Will asked suspiciously.

Deanna pushed herself away from him. "Stop it, Will. I'm not a child. I can think for myself. I can make my own decisions. Just because they might happen to agree with what my mother wants does not mean she is somehow manipulating or controlling me!"

"Really!" he said sarcastically. "Where have I heard this before, or rather, when?"

"You don't understand," she told him.

"I've heard that before, too."

For a few moments, the two of them sat on opposite ends of the small bench, fuming.

But Will gave in. "I'm sorry," he said shaking his head. "I want you to get better, to deal with what happened to you. I don't ever want to see you like you were in that shower ever again, no matter what it takes. If that means going home, then I'll pilot the shuttle. If that's quitting your job, I'll sign your resignation. I won't like it," he cautioned. "But I'll do it. Whatever you need."

"I don't know what I need, Will. It might take me some time to figure that part out."

"Okay, but when you do, you can talk to me about it. You don't have to hide it from me."

Deanna nodded and he closed his arms around her to hug her. She didn't let him hold her for long before she pulled away.

"How about a safer topic," she offered standing up and reaching to pick a blossom from the tree above her head.

Will watched her as she reached for the flower, the way she moved, and the arch of her back. So many things were just the same as they had been before, he thought as he watched her shirt pull up slightly when she plucked the flower from the branch, leaving the pale skin of her back and hip exposed for a moment. But as she turned back to him, he couldn't help but notice how much had changed. She wasn't comfortable with herself like she used to be. She fidgeted and tended to keep her eyes down. But what bothered him the most is she didn't smile like she used to. Even when she was smiling, it was different. It didn't light up her face like it used to.

Deanna watched him studying her, as she twirled the flower in her fingertips. "Come on," she urged. "New topic."

"Okay," he said thinking of her soft skin. "I have a question for you," he offered.

"Does it have to do with Worf?"

"No."

"Lieutenant Soto?"

"No," he said again.

"My job or my mother?"

"No and no."

"Alright, go ahead."

"If you dislike your birthmark so much, why didn't you ever have it removed?"

"My what?" she asked.

Will stood up and wrapped his arms around her. "You heard me. Your birthmark," he said brushing his fingers against her pants where it lay on her skin.

"First my underwear drawer, now my birthmark? I think you have seen me in too few clothes on far too many occasions in the last week or two."

"Well?" he asked.

"Betazoids don't have birthmarks," she told him.

"True, but you are half human and you do. So if it embarrasses you so, why in almost 10 years have you never bothered to get it removed?"

Deanna fought the blush rising in her cheeks as she shrugged. "It…I don't know. I just haven't bothered."

"Too busy?" he asked, watching her cheeks gather color.

"It's not that big of a deal. You are one of the few people who have ever paid the slightest attention to it."

"So is that it? A little memento? A little state of Alaska to remember me by?"

"Well I suppose I could have tattooed your name on my ass, but this seemed far more, convenient, not to mention more natural. Why all the questions about my birthmark?" she asked turning around to watch him.

Deanna felt his apprehension soar as he looked away from her. "Will," she said stepping back to him and taking his hand. "Is that how you identified me, on the planet?" she asked quietly.

He only nodded. He was surprised to see her smile.

"Well, then I'm glad I didn't remove it," she said simply.

"Me too," he told her relieved that he had not upset her. "I didn't ask before I went down and all I could think was if it's not there, we are both in so much trouble."

"Why didn't you? You could have just asked Beverly. She would have known if I removed it."

"Oh, right. I can just see that in the mission planning session. 'Hey Doc, seen that mark shaped like Alaska right above Deanna's ass lately? I haven't seen her naked in a while, but I think it's still there.' Sure no problem. Sorry, that just seemed a little…"

"Public?" Deanna asked, blushing.

"Maybe a bit," he said with a small smirk.

Deanna turned around and lifted her shirt a bit, then tugged at the waist of her pants, exposing her birthmark. "Still there," she said, glancing back over her own shoulder. "Safe and sound." She let go of her shirt and let it fall down, glancing back at Will. She felt him mentally push her away and suddenly she felt uncertain.

Will tore his eyes away from the bare small of her back, and tried to shove his own thoughts to the back of his mind. He didn't mean to let those kind of thoughts come to his mind. He didn't want her to sense that from him.

They stood there, shifting and looking around awkwardly.

"So," Deanna said continuing to stroll along the path through the trees, hoping to ease the sudden tension. "Has Beverly talked to you about her Casanova physician?" she asked him.

"Who, Turner or something? The one sleeping with all the nurses?" he asked strolling to catch up.

"So you've heard about it?" Deanna asked, giggling.

"Oh, god. Half the ship's heard about it. The other half's already slept with him."

"I guess he wanted to give you a run for your money," she stepped away from him as he took a swipe at her.

They continued to talk about nothing important as they strolled through the arboretum and out to the ship's corridors again. "How about we head to Ten Forward and get something to eat before I take you back?" he asked her.

"No." Deanna said a bit too harshly. She looked away quickly. "I'm just getting tired," she told him.

Will looked at her skeptically. "Okay," he said. "Let's head back."

Truthfully, Deanna was tired. She held tighter to his arm as they walked further down the corridor. "You doing okay?" he asked as she stumbled slightly. Deanna nodded. "Okay, we better get it together, make you look good, or Mom won't let me take you out anymore."

Deanna was starting to feel dizzy and she held tighter to his arm. "I think I've heard that before, too," she whispered.

Will pushed some hair back from her face as she rested her head on his shoulder and he waited for her to take a couple of deep breaths and let the dizziness pass.

With one last sighing exhale, Deanna pulled away from him."I'm okay now," she said. "Let's go."

With a nod, Will put his arm around her and they headed towards the main doors of Sickbay. As they entered they saw Dr. Crusher talking quietly with Captain Picard. Will could feel Deanna's body tense beside him. The captain was the one member of the senior staff that had not come to see or even spoken to her at all in the week that she had been back. The four of them stood silently, watching each other. Deanna's eyes were focused on the captain, almost pleading for some sort of reaction or acknowledgement.

"Yes, well, thank you Doctor," he said awkwardly and with a nod toward the two of them, he turned and walked away without so much as saying hello.

Deanna stood with her hand around Will's arm, frozen. Then she looked down away from the others.

Will kissed her head quickly. "I'll be back for a bit tonight, okay?" he said.

She nodded, stunned by her captain's reaction to her. But with a nod to both Deanna and the doctor, Will was out the door.

He met up with the captain at the turbo lift and waited for the captain to say something, but he did not.

"Is there a problem, Sir?" Will finally asked.

"No," the captain said and continued to stand in silence. The lift arrived and the two stepped inside. "Bridge," the captain called to the computer and the lift began its assent.

Will stood silently behind his captain until he couldn't take it anymore. As the lift drew near to the bridge, Will stepped forward.

"With all due respect, Sir. She's still a member of your crew. And she's been through a hell of a lot. That, back there…that hurt her, Sir. And she deserves better than that." Will heard the lift doors open behind him without another word, or even waiting for a response, he stepped out onto the bridge and resumed his duties.

Jean Luc Picard watched his first officer go. Never in eight years had his Number One spoken to him like that. Never once had he deserved it as much. He hung his head as he walked to his ready room and paged Lieutenant Soto.


	9. Found 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original charcters.

To my readers: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappear for so long- but I'm back now and hope that you all will forgive me and be willing to keep reading. As a form of apology, I promise I will have 10 up this weekend. If you died :) I hope this will resurrect you. :) Happy reading.

**Chapter 9**

Captain Picard called for the acting ship's counselor to enter his ready room and stood to greet her. "Lieutenant," he said, but seeing her obvious exasperation at his use of her rank, he corrected himself. "Counselor, please have a seat."

"What can I do for you, Captain?" she asked as she sat on the couch lining one wall of the room. She tried to be unobtrusive and neutral.

Captain Picard walked around to the front of the desk, buthesitated. He had called for her, and yet, he still didn't quite know what he wanted to say. "I was wondering how your appointments with Counselor Troi were going?" he asked, hoping it would give them a place to start.

Amy Soto smiled slightly as she sat back on the couch and crossed her legs almost casually. "Captain, have you ever heard the expression that doctors make the worst patients?"

Captain Picard nodded slightly.

"Well, you could probably say the same thing for counselors and counseling," she told him.

The captain nodded again. "Who counsels the counselor?" he said quietly and not entirely to the other occupant of the room. He looked back to her and tried to smile as he sighed and tugged on his tunic before joining her on the sofa. "I heard that things did not seem to be going well earlier today," he said.

"Captain, Deanna Troi is an intensely private person, not unlike yourself," Amy told him, and noted the way his eyes shifted away from hers as she said it. "It is not uncommon for someone in her situation to turn inward, to view others actions out of context and take them personally. I can try to help her interpret others actions more appropriately. I can help her use coping skills to deal with her own emotions, and to handle the memories of what happened to her. However, I can only help her with what she is willing to share, what she is willing to take on and face up to. Deanna is a highly trained psychologist. She has all the skills to handle this situation all on her own. Truthfully, she does not _need_ my help. But she doesn't seem to have either direction, or drive to correct her own logic at this point. And that is nodifferent than anyone else who is struggling with what she is struggling with, psychological training or not. In fact the training that she does have has only made her compartmentalize her emotions, slowing down her recovery. She is making progress, Sir, but it will have to be in her time and at her own pace." Amy paused and watched the captain watching her. "But I don't think you asked me to come here for a progress report," she said, leaning in, waiting for the captain to speak.

"I saw her today," Jean Luc said.

Amy waited for him to continue, but it seemed that he had said all that he was going to. "And what was your impression, Sir?"

The captain tugged again on his Tunic, straitening up in his seat. "I didn't actually speak to her," he confessed. "I haven't actually spoken to her since her return."

Amy paused and watched him closely. He was trying to maintain an air of confidence and leadership, but his eyes were darting from place to place, giving away his uncertainty. "May I ask why not?", she inquired.

"She has not seemed to want to see me," he admitted. "I thought I could spare her more pain or discomfort." He stood and walked to the window, staring out at the stars glistening against the blackness of space.

Amy let him have the distance he needed as she watched him walk away. "Do you think you've accomplished that?" she asked him kindly.

"No. Apparently not."

"What makes you say that?" Amy continued.

Jean Luc thought back to the look on her face, as she watched him in sickbay, waiting for him to speak to her with her large dark eyes watching him. "My first officer seemed to think I had done more harm than good," he told her.

"He told you that?" Amy asked a bit disbelievingly.

The captain glanced back over his shoulder and met her gaze. "Not something he does very often."

Amy couldn't help but smile as she shook her head. "You and your first officer," she said. "You both want to take responsibility for what happened to her and somehow make it better. Except you have both taken it to the extreme. He has taken it upon himself to hover over her and care for her. In contrast, you are on the other extreme avoiding her to keep from making her… what exactly? Uncomfortable?"

"Yes," he answered firmly. "She has been through enough. I don't need to make any of it worse." The captain began pacing his room. "I sent her down there. I ordered her to go. I thought I understood the situation on the planet. I thought the risk was justified."

"And now?" Amy asked him.

Jean Luc Picard stopped his pacing and looked down at his desk, breathing hard and struggling to make sense of his own emotions. "She seems lost, hollow somehow, angry."

"Captain, may I ask you something?" she asked cautiously. While the rest of the staff had opened up to her, this was as close to the captain's psyche as she had gotten thus far.

"What is Deanna Troi to you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Captain, for eight years she has listened to you, followed your orders, offered you counsel, helped you through some of the most challenging times in your life. But if she were to leave the Enterprise tomorrow, would you keep in touch with her? Would you still offer her advise if she asked? - Would you still want hers?"

Jean Luc Picard was staring at this woman who stood so calmly challenging him in his own ready room, considering her questions. "Yes, I would," he finally answered.

"That's because you consider her a friend, maybe even closer than that. The reason this incident has affected your senior staff so deeply is that you all have formed a kind of family. I don't know how emotionally healthy this is, but it is what it is. And you, Sir, are the patriarch. Hiding your head in the sand or avoiding her is simply not an option," she finished flatly. "You cannot hide behind your rank or office, Sir. You need to go see her; not as her Captain, but because she is your friend." Amy watched him as he stood before her, staring at something beyond her right shoulder. "But you already know that, Captain. So, why am I here?"

"I don't know what to say to her," he finally admitted.

Amy smiled and sat back down. "When Data told me that, I suggested he bring a gift, as an ice breaker."

"A gift," the captain said as if it were an overly simplistic idea.

"Captain, whatever you bring her, whatever you do, you will need to talk to her, to tell her how you feel."

"What did Data bring her?" the captain asked.

Amy smiled as she stood and walked towards the door. "For that, you would need to ask Data."

"Commander Riker is angry," he said shaking his head, looking down at his feet.

"That seems like a problem easily fixes," she told him warmly. "Is there anything else, Sir?"

The captain looked at her as if he wanted to hear a different answer, or clearer instructions. But finally he shook his head. "I'll speak to her."

"Today, Sir," she told him, "do it today." With that, she turned and left him alone to think about what she had said.

…

The hour was growing late as Will sat in the chair next to Deanna's bed in sickbay. She was rubbing at her ankle almost distractedly. He just watched. There was nothing wrong with her ankle, and hadn't been in over a week. But they had taken a long walk that afternoon and it had worn her out.

"Does your ankle hurt?" he finally asked her.

Deanna looked back at him. He had been sitting so quietly most of the evening. "It's okay," she said letting go of her leg and settling back into her bed. "I just haven't had any exercise in a while." She could feel him studying her and she looked away, feeling uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny.

"So, what'd you have for dinner?" he asked her trying to seem casual.

Deanna felt her stomach sink, but she tried to put on her best cheeky smile. "Wow, we're low on conversation this evening," she said, trying to reach for something to occupy her.

But Will stood and took her hand. "Okay, you want to talk about where we left it earlier?"

Deanna felt the sting of tears in her eyes instantly. She looked down and shook her head.

"He'll come around, Deanna. You know better than anyone that this is not his strength. You know him. You know how he is."

Deanna nodded, but didn't look up. She hated that she was fighting these tears. She wished she could be stronger and not care that Worf couldn't look her in the eye or that the captain apparently had nothing to say to her. _To hell with them_, is what Will would say, but she couldn't help but feel the hurt and sadness. It was just another piece of her life that had been taken from her, against her will and without her consent. Will wanted her to be strong, to feel as independent as she used to feel and she wanted to show him that she could, so she choked back her tears and looked back up at him, trying to smile. "I know," she told him.

"So, with any luck, in another day or so, you'll be let out of here," he told her, sitting down next to her on the edge of the bed. "What're you gonna do with yourself?"

"I thought I'd learn to knit," she told him with a shrug.

"To _knit_?"

Deanna chuckled before she grew quiet. "Write," she said. "Amy Soto seems to want me to write a memoir."

"Does it really help?" he asked her unbelievingly. He'd never been one for much writing.

She shrugged. "It's proven to be a valuable psychological technique to allow one to vent out…"

"Yeah, yeah," Will interrupted. "You- I'm talking about you. Does it help you?"

Deanna shrugged again. "Some," she admitted.

"Dea, I meant what I said earlier about your job," he began, cautious to not repeat the argument from earlier that day.

"Will, please."

But Will continued. "No, just hear me out. I know you. I know how you feel about your work. You love what you do. I don't want you to walk away just because you're feeling overwhelmed or…" he reached up and brushed his hand through her hair, "or scared."

"I'm not scared," she said abruptly pulling away from his touch. "I just…"

"Just what?" he urged her to continue.

Deanna fidgeted slightly and didn't speak for a while. "What if that person you keep describing isn't me? What if I'm not that person anymore? What happens if I can't get her back? What if what happened to me changed me, forever, and I cannot go back?" Her voice was so quiet, she didn't even know if he had heard her.

Somehow, saying the words out loud, putting them out there for him to scrutinize instead of locking them in a journal next to her bed had made it impossible to keep the tears at bay. They rolled, unhindered, down her cheeks. Will sat quietly next to her, not speaking, his emotions more even than she'd expected. Yet, she couldn't make herself look at him. She didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes. He kept telling her every day that she was strong. But she didn't feel strong at all. She felt weak and vulnerable all the time, and she hated it. The more she hated it, the angrier she became, until she could hardly recognize herself at all.

He tugged on her chin, urging her to meet his gaze, but she fought it. "Deanna," he said softly. He cradled her face in his hands and lifted her chin until he could see her eyes. Then he wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. "That sounds a lot like scared to me," he told her quietly, speaking close to her ear. He pulled her closer to him and embraced her.

The warmth of his chest was soothing, and even though it seemed that she ought to pull away from him, she couldn't make herself do it. She snuggled into his embrace, listening to his heart thumping against her ear. It was rhythmic and calming as they sat holding each other quietly for a moment.

Will gently rubbed his arms down Deanna's back. He hadn't meant to upset her, and now he was desperately trying to find something to tell her that would make it better. Ironically, all he could think of were things she had told him over the years. Maybe her own words would bring her some comfort, too. "You told me once that life is not static, that we are all changing every day. Everything we do changes us. We learn and grow and mature. You told me that," he said as he held her tight. "You said, we cannot stop things from changing,but that we could only choose how we allow things that happened to us change us, for good or bad. That's our choice. That's what you told me," he said gently to her. He pulled back from her and looked at her face. "Did I get that pretty right?" he asked smiling slightly.

Deanna smiled softly back at him, surprised that he had actually listened to her and remembered what she had said over the years. "Maybe you should have my job, then," she said. "You're not too bad at it."

"I'm perfectly happy with the job I have, thank you very much. Why is everyone always trying to get me to take another job?"

Deanna shrugged again, sitting up. "Maybe we're just trying to get rid of you," she said watching him.

"Nice," Will responded laughing. He leaned in to kiss her lightly. When his lips met hers, he paused with the surge of emotions that shot through him. She felt so good against him, and her lips were so soft. She wasn't pulling away from him either as her lips lingered against his longer than was appropriate for a casual kiss. This wasn't his intention, to be kissing her like this on a bed in sickbay. _What are you doing, you idiot!_ His mind screamed. _Stop it!_ Almost in a panic, he pulled away from her and the spell that had seemed to fall around them faded. He turned away from her slightly. He could keep his thoughts to himself alright, but it was no good if she looked into his eyes. She could read him better than that and he knew it. And these kinds of thoughts was surly the last thing she needed from him.

He looked up at her guiltily, feeling like a complete idiot. He had just meant to give her a friendly peck. He didn't mean for it to be anything more than that, or to last any longer than that. But Deanna sat quietly watching him, her wide dark eyes not revealing any of how she was feeling inside.

He should say something, say he was sorry, explain that he hadn't meant to… but before he could do anything the chime rang on the door to Deanna's room.

"Come in," she called, seeming grateful for the distraction.

The door hissed open and revealed the captain looking rather awkward and uncomfortable, clutching something in his arm firmly to his side.

"I've interrupted," he began immediately. "I can come back another…"

"No!" Will called after him, jumping off of his place on the bed and onto his feet. He looked between his commanding officer and Deanna as she sat, pulling her sheet up and around her, something that seemed to become a nervous habit, as if somehow the fabric barrier would protect her. "I was just leaving," he said to the captain, though it was not entirely true. "It's late," he continued, looking for some sort of explanation.

"Yes, it is," the captain agreed. "Perhaps another time would be better."

"No, Sir. Now's as good a time as any," Will called to him. He was not going to let him walk away from her again. Will looked back to Deanna. Her eyes were wide, pleading with him to stay, but Will knew better. This was something between Jean Luc Picard and Deanna Troi, and he was the third wheel. "Good night, Dea," he said kissing her forehead and heading towards the door. He nodded to the captain as he slipped out. "Sir," he said.

Jean Luc watched him go. It was the first time his first officer had spoken to him since dressing him down in the lift earlier. He was feeling very unsure. Part of him wished that Will had stayed. But as Will headed off into the main bay, he turned back and gave the captain a quick smile and then jerked his head towards the open door, before turning and walking away. Will understood. That was his way of smoothing things over. Lieutenant Soto had been right. It was a problem easily fixed.

Captain Picard turned back to the open door and watched as his ship's counselor fiddled with a sheet on the bed. "May I come in?" he finally asked her.

Deanna felt her heart thumping nervously in her chest. _No matter what_, she told herself. _Don't cry. Nothing makes him as uncomfortable as a weeping woman. _"Of course," she said simply, trying to smile and gesturing to the chair next to her bed, but the captain took a few short steps into the room and froze.

"I'm sorry for this afternoon," he told her quietly. "There was no excuse for my behavior."

"Thank you, Captain," she said softly and felt the tears begin to sting in her eyes. She blinked hard, fighting against them.

The captain sighed deeply before continuing. "I brought you something," he told her. "I should have brought it to you sooner." He stepped closer to the bed and extended his arm, where he held an old fashioned leather-bound book.

Deanna raised her eyebrows as she gently took it from his hand.

"I found," he said stepping even closer to her bedside, "after the incident with the Borg," Deanna noted the way he looked away as he said it and even after all this time, he still could not use the word assimilation, "my mind was a bit scattered, jumping from topic to topic all the time as if somehow the constant motion would…"

"Keep the darkness at bay," Deanna finished for him.

The two watched each other in silence for a moment. He had never told her that, though perhaps she had sensed it in those dark days of his recovery. Or was that how she was feeling now? Was the darkness on the edge of sleep a fear they now shared?

"I found reading anything of length proved to be difficult. But this rang true to me. It kept me…" he paused. Sane, he wanted to tell her, but it was a thought he couldn't quite finish. Finally he let the sentence drift away. "I thought it might be able to help you now," he told her gesturing to the book now in her lap.

"Collected Poems of Robert Frost," Deanna read the cover out loud. She carefully opened the cover and found a note scrawled across the cover page.

_For my friend, Deanna, who always held my hand through the darkness, and whom I have left behind. I'm sorry,_

_Jean Luc Picard_

"I can understand that you must be very angry with me for what I have done, but I hope…"

Deanna didn't wait for him to finish. She leaned over and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him, though she had no expectation of him returning the gesture. She did not succeed with her battle against the tears. They slipped down her cheeks, but she tried to hide her face in the captain's shoulder.

"Deanna," he told her. "Forgive me?"

Deanna pulled away from him, wiping furiously at her eyes, so as to make him no more uncomfortable than he already was. "You were doing your job, Sir," she told him.

"Perhaps, but this is not about my job. Beverly has been telling me how you are doing, but…" he sighed and finally sat in the chair next to her bed. "How are you?" he asked reaching up and taking her hand closest to him.

…

Will Riker turned to walk out of the main sickbay doors when he saw Beverly Crusher leaning against the bulkhead near her office. He smiled and continued on until she spoke.

"What did you say to him?" she asked curiously.

"What?" Will asked turning back to her.

"The captain. When you left here this afternoon, what did you say to him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Will replied with a shrug.

Beverly raised one eyebrow at him in an expression she usually reserved for poker games. "You know," she said slightly biting her lower lip. "I used to be under the misimpression that I was the only one on board who could do that," she said.

"Do what?" he asked curiously stepping closer to her. But she didn't answer, but continued instead.

"And then I figured out that Deanna could do it at least as well, if not better. I had this impression that it was some special gift we were given as women, but you told him to jump and he just asked how high. How is it Commander, that you gave your captain an order and he followed it?"

Will chuckled slightly under his breath. "I think you give me way too much credit, Doctor."

"I think you guilted him into it, Commander. To think I've tried for a week to do what you accomplished in just one afternoon…"

Will smiled innocently. "Well, you learn a thing or two about a guy after sitting next to him for eight years," he admitted.

"Well, whatever you said or did…well done," Beverly said before turning and heading back into her office.

Will watched her go and almost went on his way, but changed his mind. "Hey, Doc," he said following after her. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure," she said sitting down at her desk and gesturing to a chair across from it.

Will sat down slowly and looked around, still trying to decide if he wanted to bring up what was on his mind. "Have you seen Deanna eat lately?" he finally asked.

Beverly looked back puzzled. "She eats three meals a day, and can have anything she wants. Why?"

"No," Will corrected. "I know that you provide her with food three times a day, but I just wonder if you've actually seen her eat any of it."

"I'm sure I have," Beverly offered. "Why do you ask?"

Will shrugged and looked awkward, as if he were somehow breaking a confidence. "I don't know. I guess I just haven't seen her eat anything, and I know I'm not around all the time, but…" Will took a deep breath. "Okay, so on our way back this afternoon, I offered to take her by ten forward and get something to eat, but she said no, and not like 'no, I'm not in the mood', but like 'No, please don't make me'. You know?"

"Will," Beverly cautioned. "Maybe she just wasn't ready for that kind of a crowd."

"Maybe," Will agreed. "But I haven't seen her eat anything else either. I mean, if you have…"

Beverly stopped and thought now about what she had actually seen Deanna do. Then she thought about that night she had been painting Deanna's nails. She was sure she had eaten the goodies, but the more she thought about it, the only pictures in her mind were of Deanna sipping at the hot cocoa she had given her. "I don't know, Will. Suddenly, I'm not so sure anymore. Do you think we ought to bring this up with Lieutenant Soto?"

"No," he said cautiously. "I don't want to tattle on her. I don't know that it would help. And, it might be nothing."

"Well, I'll keep an eye on it," Beverly told him. "I don't know what else to do about it."

"Yeah, I will, too."

Beverly leaned across her desk and put her hand on his forearm. "You know, in case I don't tell you often enough, you're a good man, Will Riker."

Will smiled and rolled his eyes.

"You know, not everything's a joke, Will," she told him, exasperated.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "You know I was just teasing you earlier about the 'mom' thing, right?"

"Yes, thank you very much," she told him, smacking him on the arm. "But it was worth it to see her smile. Now, get out of here. Go home."

"What about you?" Will asked her. "Are you on duty tonight?"

"No," Beverly told him. "But I think I'll wait for the captain. He might need a friendly face. You know him. This isn't really his forte."

Will almost laughed at her choice of words, and he nodded. "Good night Doc," he told her standing up and walking out of his office.


	10. Found 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

To my readers: This chapter is immensely better because of the help that I had from Tikva with editing it. Thank you, Thank you! She has helped with almost all of them, actually, but this one contains a couple of paragraphs that are entirely her work, so thank you! And everyone else is thankful too, whether they know it or not. And you should all anxiously await the day that she writes her own stories. Hope you enjoy it. Give me a week or so for the next one!

**Chapter 10**

"Come in," Deanna called in response to the chime at her door. She closed the book of poetry on her lap and scooted it aside as the doors opened.

Amy Soto smiled curiously as she walked into the room.

"Counselor," Deanna greeted her. Despite her collected appearance, her temporary replacement was flustered. "How are you?" Deanna asked, offering her the chair next to her bed.

"I'm fine, thank you," Amy responded.

"Are you?" Deanna asked one eyebrow arched in question.

Amy blew air out between her lips as she sighed and sank into the chair that Deanna had offered, her professional demeanor slipping ever so slightly. "I just met Lieutenant Barkley?" Amy offered with a hint of question in her voice.

Deanna began to nod, knowingly, trying to suppress a chuckle.

"Are you, I mean…is the captain aware that he…that he is…"

"Borderline psychotic?" Deanna offered, trying to be helpful.

Amy's eyes flew open wide. "Well…"

"Yes," Deanna assured her, sitting up and swinging her feet down off the side of the bed to face her guest. "And he's harmless."

"He's obsessed with you," Amy said cautiously.

"It's not really that bad," Deanna tried to comfort her. "His first impression gives the idea that his mental state is far worse than it actually is. He's honestly very kind and knowledgeable, if a bit socially awkward and…"

"Narcissistic?" Amy suggested.

"That seems a little harsh," Deanna replied.

Amy rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. "Forgive me, Deanna, but are you saying that you don't have the slightest reservation about this man serving in engineering on the flagship of the federation?"

"Not at all," Deanna replied kindly. "He's really harmless, I assure you."

Amy sighed again before shrugging. "I suppose I will have to take your word for it, Counselor," she told Deanna.

Deanna smiled slightly. "Thank you," she replied. "So is that why you came by? Because you were concerned about Reg?"

Amy sat up a bit straighter, back to business. "No, I came to check on you. I heard that you are being released from sickbay tomorrow."

Deanna nodded and smiled. "Yes. I'm no longer on any medications, and the infection seems to be gone. The doctor wants to monitor my kidney function over night for one more night, now that all the medications have been withdrawn, and if I can manage to behave myself, then I get to go home tomorrow."

Amy waited and watched her carefully. "And how do you feel about that?" she asked her.

Deanna looked surprised. "How should I feel?" she asked her. "I've been cooped up in this room for almost two weeks," Deanna paused and tried to articulate her feelings. "I'm grateful to be well," she finally continued. "I want to get on with my life."

"Deanna," Amy cautioned. "You have been safe here, protected. I think it would be natural for you to be nervous about leaving the safety of this room, of this cocoon where you have been kept during your recovery."

"I can't remain in a cocoon forever. I'm well. It's time to move on."

Amy Soto looked at Deanna with a deep stare. "Counselor, I don't think you should confuse your physical recovery with your emotional one. The physical wounds that you suffered were shallow in comparison to the emotional scars that have been left behind."

Deanna took a deep breath and sighed. "Counselor, please don't think I'm naive enough to not see the difference. I'm well aware that my life will not just slip back into place, but I also know that dwelling on it won't change what happened."

"In what way do you see the life you'll return to tomorrow being different?" Amy asked, her head leaned to one side as she smiled kindly.

"From today or from before?" Deanna asked.

"Either one."

"Well," Deanna said glancing around at her surroundings. "I'll be home, with my things, my bed, my clothes, my shower. I can go and do what I want when I want, without people constantly hovering over me."

"You'll be alone more," Amy offered. "How do you feel about that?"

Deanna only shrugged. "I'm sure I can find things to occupy my time."

"Like?"

Deanna reached out for the book on her bed, and clutching it close to her, she replied. "I can read,"

"Or write," Amy offered.

Deanna rolled her eyes.

"What about 'different than before the mission'? How do you see your life being changed?" Amy asked.

"Well, I don't have a job, for one," Deanna said indicating her replacement and Amy smiled graciously.

"It's yours as soon as you're ready."

"And who decides when I'm ready?" Deanna asked begrudgingly.

"Me, you, the captain," Amy replied. "I would suspect that the captain would want his first officer's and chief medical officer's opinions as well."

"Lucky me," Deanna said quietly.

"The penalty for being close to your collogues," Amy replied. "Other than not currently having duties to attend to…how else has your life changed?"

Deanna found a spot on the floor and let her eyes bore into it, rather than think about what she was being asked. The room fell silent, but neither woman seemed in a rush to break the quiet. Finally Deanna shrugged her shoulders. "I don't see the purpose in thinking that way," she finally said. "I want to focus on getting my life back, not on what I have lost."

"And what is it that you think you've lost?" Amy asked her. She had been trying to get to this place for days, but Deanna had always skillfully avoided the topic.

"Nothing, right?" Deanna asked her skeptically. "Isn't that what you want me to believe, that I am the same person that I was and that if I just write more about my feelings that somehow I will be able to feel the same as I did three weeks ago?"

"No, that isn't what I want you to believe. I do believe that if you want your life back, you have to work hard for it. And if you don't acknowledge what you've lost, how do you know how to go about getting it back?" Amy asked her, confused by her patient's logic.

"I know what I've lost," Deanna said quietly as she stared at the spot on the floor, ending the conversation, as far as she was concerned.

Amy stood from her chair and stepped slightly closer to Deanna. "I'm glad that you can take this first step back into your life, Deanna. But I'm afraid you'll find that things you haven't even thought of will affect you differently than you expect. You need to prepare yourself for that possibility and how you will handle it when it comes. If you don't mind, I'll drop by your quarters tomorrow afternoon and see how the transition is going."

Deanna only nodded slightly, knowing perfectly well, that regardless of her response, she would come.

"I hope you have an uneventful night," Amy said as she headed off towards the door. Deanna would need time to think about the day that lay ahead of her. Amy knew that it would be difficult for her to rejoin the community around her. All she could do now was hope that Deanna would give some thought with how she would cope with the unexpected emotions that she would no doubt encounter.

…

Deanna awoke the next morning and, adopting an optimistic attitude, showered and dressed before anyone from the medical staff had been in to see her. When Beverly did come in, Deanna was sitting, dressed, on the end of her bed, putting on a pair of shoes. Her personal items were stacked neatly at the foot of her bed.

"Well, I'd ask if you're ready to go, but…"

"Does that mean that I can?"

"You are in good health," Beverly offered. "Not perfect!" she cautioned. "I would like to see you early next week for some follow up testing. But I can't keep you locked up forever, so you're free to go."

"Does that also mean that I'm cleared for duty?" Deanna asked hopefully.

Beverly looked back at her surprised and a bit uncomfortably. "Medically, I suppose. Light duty," she added quickly. "But Deanna, that is not really my decision at this point."

Deanna sighed. She hated being the mental patient. How did her patients stand it for all these years? "But if it were your decision…" Deanna asked.

"But it's not."

"But if it were," Deanna began again. "You would clear me for light duty?"

Beverly looked away from Deanna's gaze and sighed. "It's not my decision," she finally told her. She didn't want to tell her that she likely wouldn't, that she didn't think she was ready.

Deanna nodded, a bit discouraged.

"Why don't I help you with some of your things?" Beverly offered.

"No, no. I've got it," Deanna assured her.

"Okay, well- I'll just have the nurse come in and take some last vitals and then you can go." The two women stood looking at each other. "I'll miss having you around," Beverly finally told her. "Not that I want you sick, I don't, but…"

"Well, you know where to find me," Deanna reminded her.

Beverly nodded. "Maybe tomorrow we could do something."

"We could go to the gym," Deanna offered.

"Nothing to strenuous," Beverly cautioned. "Sorry, friend, not doctor," she chided herself. "That sounds great."

Deanna began gathering her things in her arms as soon as the nurse left her room after taking the last of her vital signs for the records. She took the quilt under one arm with the book in her hand. With the other arm she grabbed the travel case with her clothes and toiletries and swung it over her shoulder. That left her only one hand, and she looked back at the table by the bed and saw the vase of flowers, a PADD, and her journal all laying there and wondered how she could carry that all. She made a face as she studied the objects.

"Maybe if you balance the flowers on your head and the PADD in your teeth," Will spoke from behind her and he saw her jump. "Sorry," he offered. "Didn't mean to startle you. The door was open."

"I was just getting ready to leave," Deanna told him.

"Let me help," he suggested.

"No, I've got it. I think I remember the way. I don't need an escort."

Will chuckled as she looked at him stubbornly. "Well then, on second thought, maybe the book on your head and the writing tablet in your teeth and the flowers in that hand…" Will started handing her things, until she was going to spill everything. Hoping he had made his point, he looked back at her innocently.

"Uhh, fine," she said, handing him the quilt and the book and taking the flower vase in her now free hand.

"Collective Works of Robert Frost," Will read aloud looking at the book in his hand.

"Don't," she said when he began to open it.

Will let the cover fall closed again and looked back at her.

"It was a gift," she said awkwardly.

"I figured as much," he replied. He quickly scooped up the remaining items and with a nod, followed her out the door.

She paused to say goodbye to some of the staff and waved to Beverly, before exiting sickbay and heading through the corridor towards the lift. Her surroundings felt different in some way than it had on her walk a few days before, and she was fairly certain that it was not a good thing. Will followed close behind her, but he was not pushing a conversation upon her, and so they walked in silence.

When she approached her doors, and was surprised when they swished open obediently before her. For the first time in over three weeks, she looked at her home. It was not exactly as she had left it. Will had been in and out several times retrieving items for her. She remembered the morning they left for Galia prime that she had been drinking a hot coco and had left the mug on the table. It was gone. In its place was another vase of flowers, sunflowers, bright and cheery.

She knew Will must have put them there. And she liked them very much, the stark yellow against the blue china vase where they rested. Deanna put the flowers from her room in sickbay down on her desk as well as the journal that she carried. "Thank you," she said glancing over to the sunflowers.

"My pleasure," Will replied, taking the quilt in and laying it at the foot of the bed. Then he handed her the book he carried. "It's the captains," he told her.

She smiled and took it from his hand, holding it close to her heart.

Will leaned down and kissed her head. "Told you he'd come around," he said then turned to leave.

"You aren't staying?" Deanna asked, as he turned towards the door, hoping she didn't sound as panicked as she suddenly felt.

"I'm supposed to be on the bridge in half an hour and I need to talk to Geordi about some things first," he tried to explain. "You gonna be okay?" he asked.

Deanna straightened up and nodded firmly. "I'll be fine. This is my home. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, if you need anything," he offered.

"I can get it myself."

"I'm off duty around 18:00. I could come by and-"

"No," Deanna said calmly. "I'll be fine. I'm sure you have other things you could be doing."

Will looked back at her with a bit of a scowl.

"I'm home now, Will. You don't need to entertain me or comfort me. I'm fine."

He nodded slightly and then shrugged. "If you change your mind,"

"I know where to find you," Deanna said firmly. Will turned and walked out the door, glancing back once to find Deanna still nodding at him. She tired to seem sure of herself until the doors slid shut behind him, and she let out a long sigh from the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She looked around the room, her room, full of familiar objects, and yet something about them seemed foreign and unfamiliar. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, exhaled and then repeated it. But when she opened her eyes, the feeling of uneasiness didn't fade. "Computer, lights," she called. The lighting in the room increased, but still it seemed dark and full of shadows.

"Computer, increase lights," she called again. The lighting again increased, but the anxiety did not leave with it. With a deep sigh, she stepped further into her quarters and began to unpack her bag.

She spent the rest of the morning putting things away, and sorting through communications she had not responded to, including several from her mother. Then she had taken a short walk. She didn't much know where she was headed, but she didn't want to be alone in her quarters any longer.

"Deanna," Amy Soto called, as she came up behind her in the corridor. "How are you?"

Deanna forced a smile. "I'm fine. You?"

"I went by your quarters and you weren't there," Amy told her. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine," Deanna lied. "Just tired of sitting still."

"And how is it, being home and having some more freedom?"

Deanna forced herself to smile wider. "So far, so good," she said with a casual tone.

"It wasn't harder than you expected?"

Deanna thought about telling her how she was truly feeling, that it somehow seemed like everything in her quarters had changed, like her belongings weren't hers, how unsettling it was, but she decided against it. It would not help her move forward and get her life back. She would just have to move through it. The feelings would subside in time. She knew they would, so why dredge through it all?

"No," Deanna finally answered. "It's lovely being home again."

Amy nodded somewhat suspiciously. "Well, good," she told her, though Deanna could hear the skepticism in her voice. "Can I come see you in your quarters tomorrow, around 12:00? I'd like us to continue our talks, if that's alright?"

"Yes, of course," Deanna replied with a smile. If she wanted her life back, she would need this woman's approval. So she would do what she needed to make that happen.

….

By that night, Deanna had nowhere else to go. She tried to take a long soothing bath, but there were noises that she could not seem to block out. Many noises she could identify, small creaks and hums from the ship. Then there were the scattered emotions from her shipmates that she couldn't, or wouldn't block out. To block them out would be to blind herself to the world around her, and if she could not sense them coming, how could she defend herself. Every sound rang in her head like a warning. She couldn't to lay naked in the water any longer. She was simply too vulnerable. She had hoped that the warm water would relax her as it usually did, but it seemed to have lost its magical influence over her.

She quickly picked out some casual pants and a top from her wardrobe, pulling her damp hair into a loose ponytail. She tried to meditate, watched the stars for some time, but couldn't bring herself to turn down the lights. It was late. She could not forestall the inevitable any longer. Deanna walked into her room and took a seat at the end of her bed.

"Computer, half lights," she said as she lay down gingerly on top of her covers. As she placed her head against her pillow, she could hear the familiar hum of the impulse engines. Over the years it had become a comforting noise, one that drifts into the background until you no longer notice it at all. She tried to immerse herself in the sound of the gentle hum in her ear, but the other noises continued to haunt her. Had it been this way in sickbay? No, it had been louder, even more chaotic. But with one cry she could have summoned help. She was never alone. That is what she was now. Terribly alone. Deanna shut her eyes against the remaining light in the room and hoped against hope that sleep would overtake her.

It started quietly in her mind, that sense of disembodied emotion. Someone was upset. Their thoughts were almost as convoluted and disorganized as her own. She could sense them drawing closer to her, and as they did, their emotions became more directed. They were not just upset; they were angry, furious even. He…he was furious.

Deanna leapt form the bed and hurried to her dresser where her communicator lay. She clutched it tight in her hand. It was her lifeline to the rest of the ship. If she had it, she was not truly alone. Who was this furious man coming towards her? Why was he coming after her, here, where she should have been safe? And what would he do when he reached her? Would a lock on the door of her quarters be enough to keep him out?

She stood by the dresser, clutching her communicator in her fist, when she heard the faint sound of firm footsteps coming towards her door. Her adrenaline was pumping, her chest rising and falling rapidly. The footsteps however did not stop at her door, or even pause. They continued on until Deanna could no longer distinguish them. The emotions were still easy to pick up on. As Deanna's breathing relaxed slightly she realized that there was no indication that these emotions were in any way directed at her, nor were they violent by nature. In fact, it was not unlike emotions that Deanna routinely sensed from a distressed crewmember at the end of a bad day.

Deanna looked down at the communicator still clasped in her now shaking hand. With a sigh, she put the communicator down in the place where it had rested. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep like this. She walked back into her front room, grabbed her book of poetry and settled in on the couch hoping that reading would allow her to block out her stray thoughts.

However after a few minutes she realized even trying to read did not make the creaking stop. Like a ghost it kept hovering at the edge of her perception, gaining more and more substance. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow coming from her bedroom. Deanna jumped to her feet, sending the book crashing to the floor with a loud thud. She looked around frantically to find the intruder, the sudden silence pressing up to her ears. Her own ragged breathing echoed off the walls.

"Computer, is there anyone else in these quarters?" she asked, her voice unusually shaky.

"Negative," the disembodied voice of the main computer system answered her.

She looked around frantically. It felt as though someone was watching her from every corner. She couldn't bear it. "Are you sure?" Deanna asked desperately.

"Affirmative," the computer responded.

Deanna desperately tried to calm herself, but the feelings of panic were overwhelming, and as she looked around, there was nothing to comfort her. She couldn't stay there. She had to get out. Before she could think, she raced towards the door, almost alarmed when it opened in front of her. She wasn't thinking at all, but acting on instinct as she rushed out of her quarters, as fast as she could without drawing additional attention to herself from the few people who were still roaming about the ship.

….

Will rolled over in his bed. He couldn't seem to get to sleep. He put one hand behind his head and craned his neck to look out at the stars shimmering quietly outside the porthole.

Somewhere on the ship there was a team of scientists mapping and studying each glint of light. It was satisfying to think how well the ship ran.

The chime at the door startled him from his leisurely thoughts, and he immediately went into emergency mode. He leapt from his bed and tugged his shirt on over his head. "Come in," he called as he came towards the door.

The harsh light of the hall flooded the doorway as the doors slid open. Deanna stood before him, her eyes wide and breathing hard. Will watched her standing just outside the door, her arms clutched tight over her chest. Something was wrong, though she seemed to be trying desperately to appear calmer than she was, as if she had somehow just been out for a bit of a jog around the ship.

"Deanna," he said softly reaching out for her, but Deanna jerked her arm away from his touch and took a step back. Will eased back and continued to watch her.

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. "Can I come in?" Deanna finally asked in no more than a whisper.

Will stepped aside and gestured for her to enter, and she followed him inside.

"I know it's really late," Deanna told him, her breathing relaxing slightly.

"It's okay," he tried to be calm for her, though he desperately wanted to know what had happened to upset her.

Deanna began pacing around the room, keeping her arms folded to her chest. When she saw the bed, she turned back to where he stood watching her. "You were asleep," she apologized.

"Not really," Will answered from the arm of the couch where he sat, giving her plenty of space.

Deanna stopped pacing and walked towards him. "I couldn't sleep either," she confessed. "Everything was making noise and I didn't know what it was," she began to ramble. "I thought I heard things and saw things and I can't sleep with the lights on, but if I turned them off…" Deanna finally took a deep breath. "Please don't make me go back there," she cried as she plowed into his arms.

Stunned, Will retuned her embrace, tucking her against his chest and resting his chin on her head. "Dea," he asked. "What happened? I thought you were glad to finally be home." He heard Deanna sniff as she cried against his chest. "It has to be better than sickbay," he offered. "It's _your_ home."

Deanna shook her head against his chest. How could she explain? "I spent the whole day trying to figure out what was wrong with my things, like someone had moved them around or something to change them while I was gone. I went around and around, straightening up and moving things, hoping it would make them seem more familiar, more like mine. It wasn't until I was on my way here that I realized it wasn't the possessions that had changed. It was me. I've changed. What am I going to do Will? I don't know what to do!" she cried as he held her.

She rested her head on his shoulder, trying to get some control of herself. "I know I'm being irrational. I'm just… I don't know. Tired. And I didn't know where else to go."

Will kissed her lightly on the head before easing her off of him and standing up. "Okay, come on. You just need to get some sleep tonight. The rest is gonna have to wait till morning." He held out his hand to pull her up from the couch. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

He took Deanna by the hand, pulling her exhausted body off the couch and pulled her along as he walked towards the bedroom. She pulled away from him slightly as he reached the door of his room. There was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to sleep comfortably and feel safe, but this was not a good idea. She shouldn't have come here. She had no right to barge into his life this way. Climbing into bed with him definitely seemed to be pushing the lines of their friendship.

"Will," she said, pausing.

Will looked back at Deanna as she hovered in the doorway of the bedroom. She seemed to be feeling awkward. He shook his head. "No, sorry," he told her. "Let's try this again. You sleep in there, and I will sleep on the couch with the lights on, out here," he told her. "Come on."

"Will," she said again.

"You said you were tired. Well, so am I. So off you go to bed and if you need me, or hear something, I'll be right out there."

"I can't take your bed. That's not right," Deanna said. "I should just leave." She turned and headed towards the door, but Will reached out to stop her.

"If I let you go home, are you going to get any sleep?" he asked her.

Deanna thought back to her quarters, and the creaks and shadows that had haunted her. She shrugged. "How about I take the couch?" she offered.

Will shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. He pulled her back towards the couch and sat her down then walked into his room and emerged with a blanket and pillow from his bed. Deanna took the pillow and curled up on the couch and he covered her in the blanket, tucking it around her.

"You don't have to tell Lieutenant Soto about this, do you?" Deanna asked as Will smiled down at her.

Will's smile fell and he shook his head. "Deanna," he said sounding like he was scolding her.

"Just this once?" Deanna asked. "I'll be better in the morning. I promise."

"And if you're not?" he asked her.

"Then I'll talk to her myself, I swear," Deanna promised.

Will shrugged noncommittally. "I'll be right in there if you need me. You can just call," he said pointing through the wall to his room.

Deanna nodded gratefully.

….

The light from the bedroom illuminated enough of the room for Deanna to be able to see her surroundings. And just knowing that Will was in the other room made the creaks and noises bearable. Deanna rolled her face into the couch and soon drifted off into a shallow sleep.

Will lay in his bed, the lights on for Deanna in the other room. He listened to every noise trying to decipher if she was resting, but all he could hear was the creaks and the hum of the engines and the occasional footsteps in the corridor. Everything that was usually just background noise to be ignored was suddenly standing out to him and he wondered how anyone slept through all of it. After a while Will's listening gave way to sleep and he drifted off into his own dreams.

….

He awoke to the sound of Deanna's whimpering. It was not loud, but it pierced through the quiet of his quarters. Slowly, he walked to the doorway and watched her, trying to see if she was awake or asleep. Her head was turned into the back of the sofa; the furniture's fabric muffled the sound of her cries.

"Deanna," he called out to her. She did not respond, and so he slowly approached. As he came closer, it was clear to him that she was not fully awake, so he reached down and touched her shoulder. "Deanna," he called again.

Deanna jumped and gasped.

"It's okay," Will spoke to her soothingly. "You're alright. You were having a nightmare," he told her and she nodded silently.

"Are you okay now?" he asked. Again she nodded. He watched her for another moment, trying to decipher if she was being honest with him, before he stood back up and walked back to his room. He lay down and listened as Deanna began to cry again on the couch. He decided that he would give her some space. She knew where to find him if she wanted him any closer. But he couldn't get back to sleep. He lowered his lights to half-light and closed his eyes again. He must have drifted off for a moment because he woke up when he felt something move at the end of the bed.

Deanna had tried to sit down gently to not disturb him, but he sat up to look at her. Her face was stained with tears and her breathing was still labored. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it without uttering a word, closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn't want to voice what she was feeling. She didn't want him to know how hard this was for her.

Will watched her for a moment, before he reached out and pulled her to him, tucking her next to him, as he lay back down on the bed. She didn't fight or protest. She just cuddled in next to him as he covered them both with his comforter and wrapped his arms around her waist.

He tried to be the picture of calm for her as he listened to her sniffling and gulping until her tears subsided, and within a few minutes, her breathing became more even and her body relaxed next to him. He continued to hold her tightly against him as he let himself relax enough to go back to sleep.

….

Early in the morning hours, Will woke up with a start, not from a nightmare, but from one of the most pleasant, erotic dreams he had experienced in recent memory. But the scent from the woman he was making love to in his dream didn't fade when his eyes opened. Deanna's hair lay next to his face on his pillow as she slept cozily in his arms.

Suddenly he felt immensely guilty for what his mind had just been thinking about. Realizing that his body was still reacting to the image from his dream and the physical nearness of her warm body pressing against his, he slipped his arms off of her and rolled onto his back, staring up at his ceiling.

"What do you think you were doing?" he whispered to himself, smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand, but immediately worrying that the resulting thud might have disturbed the sleeping woman next to him. Deanna, however, continued to slumber soundly.

"Something is seriously wrong with you," he continued to lecture himself. "You are a complete ass." He knew he needed to put some space between them.

He slipped out of bed, planning on taking Deanna's spot on the couch, but as he walked out of the room, the woman began to stir. For fear of having woken her up, Will made his way back to the bed to find her immediately settling down again. Curiously, the commander walked back out, only to see her body tense and begin to toss and turn again. Intrigued, he stepped back towards the bed. The effect was stunning: the closer he came, the calmer she became. Was it possible that her empathic awareness of him alone was helping her rest? And if so, how was it so easily affected by distance?

Will didn't have answers to any of the questions he was posing. Acting only on his observations, he dragged a chair from the front room into the doorway of the bedroom and settled in. After watching to make sure Deanna was still sleeping soundly, he faded back to sleep.

He didn't rest well. The chair was not comfortable, and certainly not long enough for his frame. But he tossed and turned less than Deanna. After several hours of sleeping peacefully, she began to stir, occasionally whimpering quietly or crying out. Despite the restlessness, or maybe because of it, the night seemed to drag on forever. But morning came, and when it did, it came with a harsh start.


	11. Rescue 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

To my readers: Has it been a week already? Just kidding. This was easier to write than I thought. I never know how long it will take, or how much time I will have. And for all of you who said something along the lines of 'don't end it like that'! This first paragraph was originally the last paragraph of chapter 10, but Tikva made me put it here. It's her fault! :) Happy Reading!

**Chapter 11**

The chime of the door caused Will to jump and he hurried towards it. He pushed the button for it to open, not wanting to give a verbal command that might disturb his sleeping visitor. He expected to see Amy Soto or maybe Dr. Crusher, but when the doors opened, it was a red uniform waiting to greet him.

"Captain," Will tried to hide the surprise in his voice. Without thinking he took a step backwards, which the captain took as an invitation to enter. Will's mind shot immediately to the woman sleeping in his bed, but couldn't seem to come up with a way to tell the captain to get out.

"What can I do for you, Sir?" Will asked trying to draw the captain's attention away from his bedroom where Will could see Deanna's toes sticking out from beneath the sheet, clearly visible from where he stood.

"Are you alright, Number One? You look like you had a rough night," the captain said.

"Yes…No!" Will corrected too quickly. "What is it I can do for you, Sir?" Will inquired again.

The captain turned his back to the bedroom, much to Will's relief. Captain Picard looked at his first officerand smiled his 'I need you to do something' smile. "I know it's your day off, Will, but I was hoping you might be able to help me smooth out some ruffled feathers this morning in stellar cartography."

He paused to see if his first officer would protest. "A power generator is down, and we are going to need to bump stellar cartography off the power grid two hours early in order for Commander Laforge to make the repairs."

"Couldn't Geordi take care of that?" Will asked.

"Yes, he already told them. However, Commander Olsen told him that by taking them off the grid, they will loose the mapping sequence they have been working on for the last 24 hours."

"They can't save it?"

"Apparently not."

"And we can't wait to power up the new generator?"

"We could. We would loose weapons and shielding back up power," the captain concluded.

Will nodded. "I'll talk to Commander Olsen, see what we can do."

"Thank you, Number One," the captain told him. "I promise, the rest of the day is yours to do with…" the captain had turned around and was staring at the foot in his first officer's bed. That alone was not an entirely unusual event, though not one that he was in the habit of intruding on, but the lavender nail polish told him whose foot it was and that made him stop dead in his tracks. "…as you will," he finished awkwardly.

Will winced as he realized the captain had seen Deanna's foot. "Captain, Sir. This isn't what it looks like," Will said desperately.

The captain looked around and took in the room. He lowered his voice, not wanting to wake his sleeping friend. "It looks," the Captain said turning to face his first officer, "like Deanna had a hard time sleeping last night..." he said gesturing to the blanket and pillow haphazardly strewn in the chair in the doorway to the bedroom.

Will rubbed at a kink in his neck nervously.

"…and that yours wasn't much better. That chair could not have been comfortable," he concluded.

Will sighed. "In that case, this is exactly what it looks like," he told him.

The captain tried to suppress a bemused smile to not further embarrass his first officer. "I'm sorry to have intruded," he said.

"Not at all, Sir. I'll see what I can do for stellar cartography," Will said as Captain Picard stepped towards the door. With a quick nod, the captain was gone and Will sighed and headed off to take a shower.

….

When Will left his quarters, Deanna still slumbered in his bed. He left her a brief note telling her he would return as soon as he could, hoping in the back of his mind that he when she woke up he would have already have finished what he needed to do and he could watch her eat breakfast.

It had taken quite a while to reach a compromise with stellar cartography that didn't have Commander Olsen snarling at him. As soon as he was done, he headed straight back to his quarters. As he walked in, he saw that the lights were on, and the bed was empty. His stomach sank. He wished he had been there when she woke up, to talk to her, to see how she was feeling. With a sigh, he turned back and headed towards the replicator to get some breakfast.

"Hi," came a voice from behind him.

Will jumped slightly and spun around to find Deanna coming out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel along her dripping hair.

"I took a shower, and stole some clothes," she told him. "I hope that's okay."

Will couldn't stop his eyes from roving up and down her body; her bare feet and legs. She was wearing one of his white tee shirts, which hung long and loosely on her. Underneath it she had on a pair of his boxer shorts. She looked incredibly sexy like that. Then she bent down, throwing her hair over her head and continued to dry it with the towel, facing away from him. Will's eyes lingered on her body for a moment longer before he turned away and headed back out of the bedroom. _Does she have any idea_ _what she is doing to me?_ Will thought to himself.

"Will?" she called after him.

"It's fine," he called. "No problem. What can I get you for breakfast?" he asked hoping to change the subject away from images of Deanna in the shower or wearing his underwear.

"Nothing, thanks. I'm fine," Deanna said following him into the front room. "I thought I'd just stay here for a bit more before going home. You know, until after most people have changed shifts. It might look…you know. I don't want to start any rumors by walking out of your quarters first thing in the morning looking like I've spent the night."

Will nodded in agreement. He wondered if he should mention that the captain had already seen her, but decided against it. As he watched her standing in front of him, his mind drifted for a moment back to the dream he had the night before. _Stop it_! He screamed at himself, turning away from her.

"I think I'll just have some fruit. Are you sure you don't want anything?" he asked distractedly. He wasn't hiding his thoughts very well.

Deanna watched him for a bit, trying to decide what to do. Finally she stepped up to him and rose on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you," she told him softly.

"For what?" he asked confused.

"For finding me attractive," she told him simply. "And for caring about me enough to feel guilty about it."

Will felt the color rising in his cheeks. "Sorry," he told her.

"I'm not," she said smiling at him. "It's nice to know that you don't just see me as a broken down mental patient." She sat down in a chair at the table with him. "I like knowing that you can still think of me that way."

Will looked down again, still embarrassed

"Is that why you shut me out in the arboretum? And in sickbay the other day?"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Deanna. You and me, we…" he tried to explain. "I would never push or force you. I would never hurt you like that and if me being attracted to you makes you feel that way…"

"I know that, Will. I know you would never hurt me." Deanna took her hand and put it over his resting on the table, then looked up at him and smiled.

Will tried to smile back and put his other hand over hers. "I've always found you attractive," he reminded her. Deanna chuckled and shook her head.

"You have to eat something," he told her more comfortably. "How about some eggs?"

Deanna sighed. "Maybe some juice," she offered.

Will nodded, making a note that she wasn't eating anything, but decided not to push it.

He brought her a glass of orange juice and came back with a plate of eggs and a mug of coffee. "You're sure you don't want some?" he said pointing to his food after he took a few bites.

Deanna took a long sip of her juice, her stomach doing a flip. _He knows_, she thought. Watching him closely, she shook her head and awaited his response. But much to her surprise, he let it go and went about eating his breakfast. They chatted about some other things that they were going to do that day, and about the night before. Will told her about his experience with her becoming restless when he stepped away from her and asked her to explain. She didn't really have an answer for him, other than his calmness had become her strength. After another hour or so, Deanna went back into the room and dressed in the clothes she had worn the night before.

"I'd better go," she said. "Lieutenant Soto said she was going to stop by today. I can't get away with avoiding her twice."

"Are you gonna talk to her about last night?" Will asked, hoping that she would.

"I'll see how I do," Deanna said. She gave him another kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for last night. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you too." Deanna smiled as she walked out the door into the corridor. She was glad to see it was empty, as she hurried back to her own quarters.

….

The book of Robert Frost's poetry was sprawled on the floor, a haunting reminder of the night she had barely made it through. Deanna bent down and smoothed out the ruffled pages, then placed the book carefully on the end table. Then she hurried into her room and changed into fresh clothes and waited for Lieutenant Soto to stop by.

….

Beverly and Deanna walked out of the gym after working out. Deanna was surprised to find that the physical exertion had put her more at ease than the bath the night before. The Klingon stretches left her feeling stronger and more alive than she could remember feeling since her rescue. It was a rush that left her flushed and full of energy.

"Are you feeling okay?" Beverly asked, reaching out to touch Deanna's arm. "You might have overdone it," she said.

"No. I didn't overdo it. I feel great!" Deanna said walking along beside her. "Better than I have in a long time. Thanks for the work out. It was a great idea."

"Good," Beverly said, surprised by the sudden bubblyness of her companion. "Hey, let's stop by ten forward and completely defeat the purpose of exercising," Beverly said as they continued down the corridor.

Deanna stopped, the sensation of energy draining from her body. Will knew. Did Beverly as well? Deanna closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. She could almost feel the warm wind against her skin, smell the fire, hear the cruel laughter of the men around it…

"Deanna," Beverly interrupted her waking nightmare.

She sniffed back the tears. "You go ahead," Deanna told her. "I think I'll just head home."

Beverly watched her friend. It was like a light switch had been turned off. "We could eat in my quarters if you don't want to face the crowd," she offered, hoping desperately that her friend would take her up on her offer.

But Deanna shook her head again. "No, thank you, though. I think I should go home and take a shower and head to bed." Deanna smiled weakly at her friend. "I liked the work out. When can we do it again?"

Beverly was disappointed. Will had been right. Something was definitely going on with Deanna's eating. "Maybe day after tomorrow, same time?"

"Great," Deanna told her, then turned the opposite direction and headed for home.

….

She had left the lights on in her quarters, hoping it would make it easier to come home to. She hadn't told Lieutenant Soto how hard it was to be alone there. She had decided that she didn't need to know.

Deanna took the shortest shower she ever had, and jumped out and was dressed again in a matter of minutes. She sat down on her couch, her knees tucked to her chest, watching as the ship maneuvered around the star cluster. She read a few poems, but she kept glancing up, afraid of the images that had sent her running from her quarters the night before. She couldn't run away again. It wasn't that she thought Will would mind if she showed up on his door step, but it was not practical to sleep in his quarters night after night. It wasn't fair to him either, and it wasn't right. She was troubled by what he had told her that morning about being so attached to his empathic presence that she could not sleep when he left the room. It was not a good thing. It bordered on co-dependence. This was not his problem, it was hers. She had to find a way to cope on her own. Alone.

Deanna sighed and closed her book. She didn't have the slightest idea what she had just read anyway. She began to pace through the room, looking for something to ease her distress. Maybe some herbal tea, she thought. Or warm milk. Maybe there was something in the replicator that could help her sleep.

"Computer," she called walking towards the repicator. "Are there any herbal teas or remedies that are known to induce sleep?" she asked.

"There are five hundred and fourteen teas and herbal remedies that meet those search parameters," came her answer.

Deanna sighed. She didn't care which one she took, she just wanted to rest. "Pick one," she told the computer and instantly a large cup of dark warm liquid materialized on the replicator tray. She carefully picked it up and brought it to her lips. It smelled horrible. She blew on the surface to cool it slightly before pressing the cup to her lips and taking her first sip. She had barely been able to swallow when the foul taste began to gag her. She retched and choked on the horrid taste that burnt her throat.

"Ahhg," she cried. "What is this?" she asked.

"Cardassian Ragh Fungal Tea," the computer answered.

Deanna shook her head. She couldn't drink that. "What is it boiled in?" she asked.

"One eighth strength zinc oxide."

"Okay," she said placing the drink back on the tray and pressing the button to dispose of it. "Let's try this again. Computer, can you display a list of herbs that are known to induce sleep?"

"Affirmative," the computer answered. After a moment the computer made a small beep and Deanna moved to stand in front of the replicator where the list was displayed. She scanned down the list. Some sounded foul, some she had never heard of. Some, like lavender, she didn't think would be strong enough to put her to sleep. Finally near the bottom of the list, one caught her eye. She stared at it for a long moment, wondering why it was there, and what would happen if she took it again. She fought against the memories swirling in her mind, of having the pain fade to the background after she drank the bitter liquid.

"Computer," she finally spoke. "Who entered Galian fala root into the replicator?"

"Dr. Selar," the computer responded.

"And it is not coded as medical?" Deanna asked skeptically.

"Negative," the computer told her.

Deanna paused, hesitant about what she was about to do. "Computer, replicate one fala root, one cup of hot water and a small kitchen knife."

The ingredients obediently appeared before her, and she stared at them for a moment.

….

She watched as this silent woman, shrouded in black, knelt facing away from her on the floor.

Deanna's mouth was dry. She could taste blood dried on her lips. Her body was racked with pain as she lay perfectly still on the dirty, coarse wooden floor. "Help me," she finally called, her voice harsh and cracking.

The shrouded woman spun around. Her eyes were all that was visible, but Deanna could sense that she was terrified.

"Do not speak to me," she whispered harshly. She picked up the knife off the floor and Deanna shrunk away from her. But the woman continued with her work. She broke off a small end of what appeared to be a stick of some kind and began smashing it into the floor, crushing it with the side of the knife, this way and that until it formed some sort of a paste.

"Please," Deanna begged again.

"He would kill me," the woman said desperately. "I have disobeyed him by even speaking to you. If he knew, he would take my children and send me away. Please, don't ruin my life as you have ruined yours." She scrapped the paste off the dirty floor with the side of the knife and scrapped it off into a small cup that lay next to her. Then she reached over and took what appeared to be some kind of a kettle and poured out steaming water into the cup. She stirred it once with the knife and then offered it to Deanna.

Deanna hesitated, watching her closely.

"Drink it," the woman told her.

"What is it?" Deanna asked.

"Just drink it. If you are fortunate, you will not remember what is coming. I'm sorry," she said as she stood and bowed slightly, then gathered her kettle, knife and the herb and walked to the door, knocking twice. Someone on the outside opened it and released the woman from the room and then closed it again and Deanna was plunged back into murky darkness, alone, on the harsh wooden floor, with nothing but the small teacup in her hand.

…

Deanna reached out and picked up the fala root. It was softer and more pliable than it had first appeared. Then she picked up the knife. She moved over to the table and mimicked the actions of Mortain's wife on her first day in the new hell that she had been delivered to. She stirred the paste into the steaming hot water and brought it to her lips.

Slowly she took a sip of the liquid and let it slide down her throat, warm and soothing, though the taste was still as bitter as she remembered. She took another sip. And as the liquid slowly cooled, she gulped down what remained. Deanna disposed of the cup and the knife, and tucked the fala root into a drawer near the replicator, then made her way back to the couch and watched the stars as she waited.

Soon her senses began to dull. It felt as if a great quiet had come over all the minds around her, and she felt herself growing weary. She stood and calmly walked into her room, climbing into bed, and before she could even pull the blanket around her, she was asleep.

….

Deanna held the cup, staring at the watery substance inside. She was so thirsty she would have almost drunk anything, but the woman had indicated that if she drank it, she would not remember what was happening. She didn't want to loose consciousness. She knew she was in a new town, but she didn't know where it was. Certainly it was not as near to the main city as where she had been over the last few days, but she had to hope that perhaps there was still a way out. If Deanna could get free, perhaps she could make her way into the hills and hide. She had to believe that the Enterprise was looking for her, searching for a way to bring her home.

Deanna heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, heavy and determined. The emotions that she sensed made her realize she was in danger. He was not angry, but almost evilly happy. He was looking for a way to show his power over anyone, everyone around him, and she knew she would be his target.

She quickly looked around the room, trying to determine the best location from which to launch an attack. There was nothing in the room now, but her and the cup in her hand. There was a small window, but even if she broke it out, she didn't know if she would fit through the small hole, nor did she know how high up she was.

In a fraction of a second, Deanna had made her choice. She dumped the liquid onto the floor and held tight to the handle of the cup as she slammed it into the wall. Pieces of shattered china scattered around her. Deanna bent down and found the sharpest piece she could and closed it tightly in her fist, then with her foot she kicked the rest of the debris into the corner and sat down in front of it. She would only have one chance to use her weapon. She was counting on the element of surprise. Her heart was pounding in her chest when the door finally swung open and the man stepped in. He was tall and broad, but she wouldn't have ever thought of him as handsome. There was something maniacal in his eyes. He shut the door and turned to her. He seemed perfectly willing to take it slow.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

Deanna just continued to sit in her spot, her hands at her side, her fingers moving gently against the jagged edge of the broken china, mentally preparing to jam it into his neck.

"I said, what is your name? Where are you from?"

Deanna waited.

"Shy?" he asked, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "I like that," he told her. He started towards her and in one motion, reached down and grabbed her by the left wrist, dragging her to her feet. This was her chance. Just as quickly she thrust her right hand holding the jagged china towards his neck.

"Ahh!" he cried, yanking her off her feet and slamming her to the floor. "You little bitch!" he cried as he grabbed at his neck. Blood was pouring over his fingers. He saw the piece of china on the floor where it had fallen and both he and Deanna lunged for it. Just as her hand went to close over it, his boot kicked her in the face with such force that her whole body flew back. She looked back just as he stomped on it, crushing her only weapon. He wasn't bleeding fast enough. He wasn't going to loose consciousness. He walked toward where she had landed sprawled on the floor and kicked her in the abdomen. "You'll pay for what you've done," he said, then spat on her and staggered towards the door.

This was her opportunity. She had to get up and out that door, but the pain in her body was overwhelming. Her legs were shaking as she tried to rise to make it out the door before it locked behind him. But before she could reach it, she saw it close and she heard the bar on the other side slide into place and barricade her inside the room.

Deanna was panting for breath. She turned and headed towards the window. She didn't know if she could safely jump from that height, but she was ready to try. She pushed on the window frame, but could not make it budge. It was apparently not designed to open. She studied the shape of the opening and tried to determine how she would raise herself up and out. She needed to make a plan. After several minutes she reached down and tore at the bottom of the loose gown that covered her body, wrapping her hand in the shredded piece of fabric. Again, there were footsteps on the stairs, more of them this time. If she was going to try, she needed to do it now. She reached up and punched at the glass and it shattered. With the crashing noise, the feet began to run. Deanna hauled her body feet first into the small hole as fast as she could. Seconds after, Deanna felt the sharp yank on her hair as many hands were dragging her back into the room. She was thrown to the floor and was staring into the face of the man she had stabbed in the neck earlier. There was a small bandage covering the wound now.

"You don't seem to know your place, little bitch. Well I'm going to teach you. And while I'm at it, I'm going to teach you who you belong to." He first grabbed one arm and then the other, yanking them up and over her head. "Jep, tie her, now!" he bellowed, and Deanna felt something pull tight around her wrists.

"You like to cut people, do you?" he continued as he came around and straddled her, sitting on her chest, leaving her panting for air. "You like to leave your mark? Well so do I!" he called as he pulled out a small knife. He cut along the top of her gown, ripping the cloth off her chest. He stopped and leered at her bare chest, enjoying the panic in her eyes. Then he raised his knife and began cutting into the skin of her chest. Deanna cried out in pain as he cut into her, but he didn't cut deep enough to damage the muscle tissue. "You like this?" he said laughing over her screams. "This is my mark. Now you will know who you belong to."

Deanna panted and struggled, but she couldn't fight against his weight. He was carving a symbol into her chest, and the pain seared through her. As he made the last cuts, the pain had become a blur. Instead of screams, tears slipped from her eyes as she cried silently.

The man climbed off of her and handed the knife to one of the other men. "Wait outside," he told two of them. "The rest of you, get out, unless you want to become my property as well."

The men flew from the room, leaving Deanna alone on the floor with her captor. One of them latched the door. The manstood above her, circling her, making her feel like the prey she was about to become. "Raul and Sund, they're outside. They repaired the damage from your insolence," he said pointing to his neck. "I told them that when I was done with you, you would work off your debt. Medical treatment is not free, you know. If you're _very good_, you should have your debt paid off by morning," he told her sadistically.

He knelt next to her and pressed his hand into the freshly stinging wounds of her chest. Deanna screamed. "Do you think that was pain?" he asked, looking into her eyes. He reached down and began pulling off his pants. "You don't know pain yet."

…

Deanna woke suddenly, her dream fading away. She looked around trying to get her bearings, where she was, and what had awoken her. The chime of the door rang again and she leapt from the bed and headed to the front room. "Come in," she called and the doors slid open to admit Will Riker.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, surprised.

"What time is it?" Deanna asked.

"09:00. I was just on my way to engineering and had a minute, so I thought I'd stop by to see if last night went any better than the night before."

Deanna turned and began to walk towards the table; her memories form the night before still a bit foggy in her head.

"I didn't get any late night visitors," he said hopefully.

Deanna glanced around the table for some sign of the drink she had taken, but there was none. "Fine," she said firmly spinning around to meet his gaze. "It went fine. Maybe a little rough early on, but once I was asleep, I slept like a baby."

Will looked at her skeptically, but she just smiled back at him. "I always thought that was an odd expression," he told her. "Baby's aren't known for sleeping well."

Deanna only shrugged, trying to look innocent.

"You okay?" he asked after a while.

"Fine," she said with a nod and a smile.

"Want to have dinner tonight?" he asked her.

"I can't," she lied. "Beverly and I were planning on doing something."

Will and Deanna locked eyes as if it were a ferocious poker game. She was lying and they both knew it. He made no attempt to hide the look on his face as the lie hung in the air between them. The only question was if he was going to call her on it. Will raised a challenging eyebrow, before breaking eye contact and looking back at the door. He was apparently deciding if he had enough time to start this argument.

"Tomorrow night," he finally said.

"Sure, okay," Deanna said, hoping it would at least buy her enough time to come up with a viable excuse.

Will nodded vaguely, still scrutinizing her. "Okay," he said. "See you later," and he headed out the door. Time was apparently not on Will's side at the moment, and that meant that Deanna had bought herself just a little more.


	12. Rescue 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

**Chapter 12**

Deanna walked with a false air of confidence towards Commander Riker's door. She was ready to bow out gracefully from his dinner invitation. She had been trying to casually bump into him all day, but it became clear after a few near misses that he was indeed avoiding her. She had her excuses lined up in her head, more than one, just in case, hoping that vague generalities would be enough, but not counting on it.

She pushed the chime on the door and waited, her nervousness increasing with every heart beat. When the doors opened, the smell of rich food poured out into the corridor. The table was set, the dishes waiting, covered to keep warm.

"Hi," Will said simply as she lingered in the doorway.

Deanna sighed. "I tried to catch you today," she told him. "I need a rain check on dinner."

"Oh?" he replied too casually.

"Yeah, I…something came up and I… I can't tonight."

"Not feeling well?" he asked though there was no real concern in his voice. "Maybe I should page Dr. Crusher."

"No, no. I feel fine."

"Still not sleeping well? I could get Lieutenant Soto. I'm sure she'd be happy to talk."

Deanna sighed heavily. He was going to make this difficult. "No, I'm sleeping fine," she lied again. The only acknowledgement he gave to the lie was a slight raise of one eyebrow before he continued.

"Did you make other plans?" he asked. It was like an animal toying with its prey.

"Yes," Deanna tried. "I'm sorry. Beverly and I…" but he quickly interrupted her.

"Beverly is at a violin concerto with the captain this evening," he said matter of factly. "Want to try again?"

"Umm," Deanna didn't know what to say. She had the distinct impression that she had walked right into his trap.

"Alexander?" Will asked. He waited for Deanna to open her mouth to reply before continuing quickly. "No, he's spending the night at a friend's. Hmmm," he said drumming his finger on his chin in mock thought. "Lieutenant Barkley? No, he's at the concert, so is Data. Geordi's on duty tonight…"

Deanna was glaring at him from the doorway, but all he did was stand there and shrug.

"Want to come in and we can try this again from the top?" he finally asked.

Deanna looked over her shoulder at the open corridor, freedom. But she couldn't leave like that. He wouldn't really have let her anyway. Was there any way to tell him what was going on without him thinking she was nothing more than a piece of trash? Tears sprang to her eyes, as she stood unmoving in the doorway.

"Deanna," he said walking to her, and taking her hand. He led her inside, letting the doors close behind her and sat down with her on the couch.

"You knew I was lying," she told him, wiping at her eyes.

"I was hoping you'd tell me when you were ready," he told her as he watched her fight her tears. "I'm worried about you," he said. "You're not eating, and it's starting to show. You're loosing weight," he said, pulling at the hip of the dress she wore that hung just a little looser than it was designed to do.

"No, I'm not," Deanna said, tugging the fabric out from his fingers. He looked back at her with both eyebrows arched. "It's been a bit of a rough few weeks, and I've been sick…"

"True enough," he nodded in agreement. "But what about now? Why don't you want to have dinner with me? Why won't you eat? Am I that bad of company? I took a shower and everything…"

Deanna rolled her eyes at his mocking. "I do eat," she said defensively. "I had soup for lunch, you can check the replicator in my quarters if you don't believe me."

Will glanced over at his own replicator. Was he considering it? Deanna _had_ ordered soup for lunch that afternoon. She had taken a few bites, enough to clear the headache that gnawed at her, and disposed of the rest, but her statement was true enough.

"Creamy potato," he answered her.

Her mouth fell open with a look of shock. "Spying?" she asked insulted.

Will nodded, unashamed. "I found it unhelpful at best. Just because you ordered it, doesn't mean you ate it, now does it?"

Deanna huffed at him and pulled away, to sit further from him on the sofa.

"Okay," he said, apparently consenting that she did, at least occasionally eat. "Why won't you eat around me? Or anyone else for that matter?"

Deanna stood up and began pacing the room. "What is it with food and sociability?" she asked. "Why do we always have to eat with people? Why can't people just leave well enough alone?"

"You mean, why can't _I _leave well enough alone," he said, standing up to join her. "I don't know why eating is a social act, but I know that it is. Is that really it? You don't want people watching you while you eat? Why?"

Deanna's eyes drifted to the floor. Her heart was racing. If she let herself she could have heard the crackle and popping from the nearby fire, the smell of the food, the feeling of unbelievable hunger.

"Deanna?" he said again, stepping closer to her.

Deanna's head swung back up, and she jumped back as if she was surprised to find him standing there.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, reaching out for her.

"I'm fine," she said, taking another step back.

"Whatever you are, you are not fine. Deanna, let me help you. What is it?"

Deanna shook her head slightly, and her eyes drifted back to the floor.

…

She woke up with her face in the dirt, not at all sure how she got there. She tried to shift and move and as she felt the aches of her body, it began to come back to her. She had been tied to and dragged along next to a strange animal for the better part of the day. She didn't know what it was, where it came from or where it had gone. It had reminded her of a horse, but not as must have lost consciousness in the end. Her head spun as she lifted it off the ground.

She realized that she was not tied down or restrained in any way. She could have tried to escape, if she had any idea where she was, or which way to go, or perhaps if she even had the strength to stand up. She had not eaten or drunk anything since she had arrived on the planet. It had been three days, she thought, maybe more, but how much longer could it really have been if she had not drunk anything? The days were running together, blurred and confused. Her head felt constantly fuzzy, heavy, and slow.

There was darkness all around her, but the night was warm, as a warm breeze blew across her face. The only light nearby was coming from a fire. There were three men. Yes, they had been pulling her along on the journey. Three men, circling the fire, Deanna squinted her eyes into the light to better see them. They seemed to be roasting some sort of an animal over the flames. The smell of burning wood and charred flesh filled her nostrils and she turned her head away.

"Where do you reckon she came from?" she heard one of them ask.

"Don't know."

"She was after that Federation Ambassador. I think she's an off worlder."

"You wish," another man answered. "They had to have help to get in there. There were some of us with them."

"Oh? Have you taken her? Seen her pale skin and her hands? She's not from here. She's an off worlder, I'm telling you."

"Well, wherever she came from, the idea of her being an off worlder sure made Moritan pay a hefty price for her."

There was laughter coming from the fire.

"I would," said one of the men. "Pay more for her. She's exotic."

There was a pause. "Haven't you?" One of them asked.

"Krahlk didn't think, once he had claimed her…" the man stopped talking.

"Well, my friend. I think you ought to. If she's an off worlder, who knows when this chance might come again."

"But Mortain has bought and paid for her," the man said. "I can't just…"

"Can't just what? The law says you cannot take what belongs to another. What is given willingly, that is another matter."

"And you think that she would willingly…"

"How long, do you suppose, since she's eaten?" the third man said coldly.

…

"I don't have to eat," Deanna said looking back at Will.

"Okay, but I think your basic humanoid physiology might disagree with you," her friend replied trying to sound rational.

"Uhh," Deanna sighed, plopping back down on the couch. "Fine. I may have to eat, but I don't have to enjoy it."

"But Deanna, you like food. Certain deserts in particular. Which you can have all you want of as soon as you've eaten some dinner."

Deanna looked back at him cynically.

"You like this food," he told her, pointing back at the table. "Remember that lasagna I made for you when we were staying in those cabins on Menda 2? With the waterfalls?"

Deanna nodded.

"So maybe it's not quite as good replicated, but it's still good. You liked it. Come on, eat some with me."

Deanna looked back at him helplessly. He wasn't going to understand, not unless she spelled it out for him, and she couldn't do it. She wouldn't. Worf already looked at her like she was some sort of a whore. If Will looked at her with that same expression, she'd never survive. She couldn't tell him.

"Please?" he said with his most charming boyish grin.

All she needed to do was to take a few bites, pacify him. She could do that, she told herself. Finally she nodded slightly.

"Okay!" Will said swinging into action, guiding her to the table and uncovering the food.

The lasagna stared back at her. The smell was rich and inviting, but all she could think of was how much she would have to chew, how he would be watching her. Her heart was pounding, and she could already feel her stomach churning like she may might be sick. "Why not steak?" she mumbled under her breath, not intending anyone to hear.

"You want steak?" Will repeated as he retrieved a salad from the replicator and placed it on the table. "I'll get you a steak," he said.

"No!" Deanna shook her head, nauseated by the thought of it. "No, I was just rambling. This is fine, it's great. Thank you," she forced the words from her mouth.

Will seemed to have internalized what she had said about watching her eat and she noticed him making a great effort to look at other things instead of stare at her and analyze how many times she chewed each bite. He tried hard to keep a steady, easy, relaxing conversation going as Deanna picked at her food. He had cleaned his plate and now sipped at his glass of wine. Deanna continued with tiny bites of food followed by much rearranging of the food on her own plate.

"See, that wasn't that bad," he told her when he was apparently satisfied with the amount she had consumed.

Deanna left the fork on her plate, trying not to sigh audibly with relief, and shook her head. "No," she replied. "It was very good."

"But you didn't enjoy it," he said, sounding a bit disappointed.

Deanna shrugged. "I appreciated it," she tried to compensate for her lack of enthusiasm.

"I'm just glad you ate it. Do you want anything else?" he offered.

Deanna stomach churned and ached from what she had already put into it and the anxiety she was trying to suppress. "No, I couldn't, really," she said honestly. She was exhausted. And the feeling of a relatively full stomach was only making her more tired. She stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tired, suddenly."

"You sure you're okay?" he asked. Deanna nodded. "Okay, I'll walk you home."

…

The two of them walked along the corridor, his arm around her. "Thank you," he told her.

"For what?" she asked skeptically.

"For having dinner with me. I was really worried, but I feel better now that I've seen you eat something."

Deanna's stomach turned and she thought for a moment that she was going to be sick. _I'm so glad __you__ feel better,_ she thought to herself.

"Hey, and no more lies," he said shaking his finger at her as they reached her door. "I know you too well. I can tell."

Deanna tried to smile. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. She hated lying to him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Are you gonna be okay tonight?" he asked.

"I'm just going to fall into bed," she told him.

He told her goodnight and left her at her door. She was, truly, exhausted. The idea of falling into an easy sleep was exciting to her. She changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, leaving the lights on just a bit, enough to see her surroundings. She waited for sleep to overtake her, but it would not come. Her stomach was churning, cramping. She thought for a moment that if she just went into the bathroom and vomited, she might feel better enough to be able to sleep. But she hated to vomit. She had since she was a little girl. She had gotten a terrible virus, and had vomited profusely for three days. Her father had been there, had held her hair out of her face, and then wiped her face down with a cool rag and tucked her back in bed with her mother. But she hated the feeling of it. No. She wouldn't do that on purpose.

Deanna stared at the ceiling for a long while, thought about a poem that she had read that day, anything to keep her mind from going back to that night with the three men around the fire. But three hours later, sleep had not come.

_Just once more_, she thought_. Just this one more night._ She pushed herself out of bed and back into her front room. She approached the replicator.

"Computer, I need a small kitchen knife, and a mug of hot water." She paused for a moment, then added, "With lemon and honey."

The items appeared before her, and she removed the fala root from the drawer where it had been hidden. She broke off a small nub, and began to crush it, then once it had formed a paste, slid it into the water.

It was far more tolerable with the lemon and honey in the water, like a tea, with just a slight bitter aftertaste. She quickly returned the root to its place and carried the mug to her bed. A few more sips and she would not need to think again until morning.

…

"Commander," Beverly Crusher called as she lengthened her stride to catch up with him in the corridor on their way to work the next morning.

"Good morning, Doc," Will said cheerfully.

"And?" Beverly asked, as if they were somehow in the middle of a conversation instead of being at its beginning.

Will stopped and looked back at her. "And?" he questioned.

"Last night…dinner?"

"Oh!" Will said, suddenly understanding. "Yeah, she ate. It was good."

"Really?" Beverly asked a bit surprised. "Did she say anything, or explain?"

"Yeah, she did." Will seemed far more casual about the whole thing than when he had spoken to her about it previously. "But I don't think it's as big of a deal as I was afraid it was. She knows she's got to eat, even if it's not on her fun things to do that day list. I think she's gonna be alright. Thanks though for helping me pin her down about it last night. It was good that we got it out."

Beverly stood, almost scowling at him in the middle of the corridor. "So you're not going to talk to Lieutenant Soto," she said. It was a statement, not a question. But that did not hide her displeasure.

"Beverly," Will said warmly. "I think maybe I over reacted. I really think she's gonna be fine."

But Beverly's scowl only deepened.

"What?" he said with a shrug.

"She ate," Beverly said.

"Yep."

"What did she eat? How much? And then what did she do?"

"Wow, I don't know. She ate enough, and it was lasagna and salad and then she went home and went to bed," he told her, put off by being given the third degree. "What? You want her to not have eaten?"

"No, I just don't think a few bites to get a friend off your back means it's all taken care of. I think we should still talk to Lieutenant Soto," she urged.

"I don't think it's all better," Will corrected her. "I'm not that naive. But I'll keep an eye on her, and I think _she should_ talk to her, but that's her choice. I don't want to tattle on her. I want her to trust me," he said. "You know what I mean?"

Beverly shrugged. "I suppose so."

Will patted her shoulder. "I gotta get to the bridge. See you later," he said and he was off, leaving a very confused chief medical officer standing alone in the corridor.


	13. Rescue 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

To my readers: I'm so sorry this took so long. I hope the sheer length of it will make it up to you in some way. Also, in my defense, it was done days ago, but wouldn't let anyone upload anything. I just tried to see if it would and it did, so here it is. I hope you like it. I love to hear from you. Your reviews are great to read and helpful. I'm amazed how many people are reading this, I hope it's worth your time. Enjoy. Chapter 14 will be along soon!

**Chapter 13**

Deanna sat curled in her chair as she wrote down the last few thoughts of the day that she wanted to record. It had been almost three weeks since she had left sickbay, and while her life was forming a sort of pattern of activities, she was growing restless with little or nothing to do, but sit around and dwell on what had happened to her.

She tried to occupy herself. Her new favorite pastime was exercise. It made her feel powerful and strong, in control of her surroundings. If she could just hold onto that feeling long enough to fall asleep, sometimes she didn't even need her horrid tea concoction's help.

Her 'tea', her dirty little secret. She knew they would not approve if they knew, and she had no intention of telling any of them. She didn't even dare mention it in her journal. She would simply add it to the list of things too personal, too painful to share with anyone around her. The secrets that would destroy her if they were let out into the open.

The chime of her door rang and she quickly closed the journal and placed it on the table next to her. "Come in," she called.

Amy Soto smiled lightly as she walked into Deanna's quarters. She was stopping by every other day or so, but not usually this late in the evening. Deanna assumed that Amy had chosen to visit her in her quarters to avoid making Deanna come to her own office, or at least what had been her own office. She was grateful. It would have been awkward, and this way was far more casual.

"Hello Amy," Deanna greeted her guest. "How are you this evening?"

Amy smiled and pointed atDeanna's journal. "I see you've been writing. I hope I didn't interrupt."

Deanna shook her head. "No. Please sit down."

Amy gratefully sank into the couch near Deanna's chair.

"Are you alright?" Deanna asked. She realized that her companion seemed frazzled.

"Well, since you asked," Amy began. "Can I confess something?"

Deanna nodded. "Please."

Amy looked around the room, as if to make sure that they were alone. Then she sighed a deep heavy sigh, as if she had been holding it in for days. "I hate your job," she finally blurted out. "I'm sorry."

She looked up into Deanna's shocked face apprehensively. She hoped that she had not offended the ships counselor who everyone had told her loved her position, and was shocked to see Deanna stifling a chuckle. "It's not funny! I hate it, I really do. I don't know how you stand it!"

Deanna's face broke and she began to laugh out loud and Amy quickly joined her, realizing how absurd she must sound.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't feel that way, but I just can't help it!" Amy cried.

Deanna couldn't stop herself. She didn't know what she found so amusing, other than that she had felt exactly like that on many days or perhaps that her put together, composed counter part was confessing her deep hatred of the thing Deanna most feared she would take from her. Somehow it struck her as pure amusement and she couldn't stop laughing. She tried to suppress it, stifle it somehow, but the more exasperated Amy became, the more Deanna lost her battle with the giggles**.**

Amy Soto sat on the couch watching Deanna, astounded by her response. "You're awful," she finally told her. "Horrible! You're supposed to be the ships counselor!"

Her bemused criticism only made Deanna's laughter worse. Finally she cleared her throat and tried to seem compassionate. "I'm sorry," she said, only half laughing. "I am. I'm horrible. It's not funny," she said with one more chuckle. "Tell me, why do you hate my job?" she asked leaning back in her chair. There had been a few moments over the last month where the two of them had sat together as peers rather than patient and counselor. It made Deanna feel more confident in herself to know that Amy would allow her these small glimmers of her old self and abilities.

Amy leaned back as well and sighed before she began. "When I was in school, before I joined star fleet, I wondered what kind of psychology I wanted to practice. There were so many fields that fascinated me. But there was one that I never had any interest in. I was awful at it in school. It was the only graduate course I failed and had to repeat. My gleaming blemish on my transcript."

"Family counseling," Deanna interjected. She could guess by Amy's disposition, but in all honesty, she had made Will show her Amy's personnel record weeks before.

Amy continued, unphased by Deanna's knowledge of her past, or apparent good guess. "When I was a little girl, we would travel to the mainland in the summers and visit my mother's parents. My grandfather was a farmer in Indiana. It was like a whole different world than the island in the Pacific Ocean where I was raised. And my grandfather, he was a different kind of person. I remember when I would fall and scrape my knee and come running, crying to my mother, he would say, 'What are you crying about? Come here, I'll give you something to cry about.' I always thought he was callous and a little cruel. Mother just said that's the way he was raised to be. I never would have dreamed that would have rubbed off on me, but sitting in those family counseling classes, listening to case studies about fathers not getting along with their sons and little children upset because they had to move, that was all I could think. It was like a recording playing back in my head, 'What are you crying about. Come here. I'll give you something to cry about.'"

"Some things we hear as children just sink into us," Deanna told her calmly.

"But to me, they were all just whining! They didn't have a real problem, just problems of their own making. I couldn't stand it. So I joined star fleet, thinking family counseling would be the furthest part of my job description. But here on this ship, with all these people and families- it _is _family counseling!" Amy exclaimed completely exasperated.

Deanna choked back her own chuckle. "A fair amount of the time, on this ship…yes," she admitted.

"But how do you stand it?" Amy asked her, her voice squeaking slightly.

Deanna couldn't suppress her smile. "Sometimes I come home and scream at the walls that they are all whining," Deanna confessed. "But for the most part, I like being able to help them lead better, happier lives."

Amy sighed again and shook her head slightly.

"I thought you were only handling emergent patients," Deanna questioned.

"I was, I mean… I am. But…" Amy sighed again. "They don't seem to care anymore," she told Deanna. "This morning, Lieutenant Simms came to my…I mean your office," she quickly corrected herself, then continued. "And she told me that her daughter has been having nightmares about monsters under her bed. I told her that I was only dealing with emergent patients and do you want to know what that woman said to me? She said that her daughter had woken her up three nights in a row and if that wasn't an emergency, she didn't know what was!"

"Laura's having nightmares?" Deanna replied slightly concerned.

Amy didn't know whether to be impressed with Deanna knowledge of the crew and their families, or to be curious how many times this overzealous mother had brought her daughter to see the ships counselor before her fifth birthday. "Apparently," Amy answered. "Don't you see, they need you, not me. They want to be talking to you. Trust me, I'd be no good at it."

Deanna sat forward in her chair and studied Amy Soto for a moment. "What are you saying?" she finally asked.

"I'm _asking_ what you would think about returning to duty, to see some of the _non-emergent_ patients, maybe a step towards getting back to your real life." Amy paused and watched as Deanna furrowed her brow. "Maybe just a trial, to see how you do. Two weeks, and then we can reassess. What do you think about that?"

Deanna sat thinking for several moments before responding. "What would the captain say about this?" she asked.

Amy smiled. "The captain said to ask you. So I'm asking you."

Deanna's head was spinning with thoughts and emotions, excitement at something to do, but her fear made her hesitate. What if she couldn't handle it? What if she wasn't ready? "I… I don't know," she finally stammered. She had not been expecting this and didn't know how to react.

Amy sat back and watched her for a moment. She could see that she had overwhelmed her. "Okay," she said nodding. "Why don't you think about it, and let me know in the morning?"

Deanna sighed, but before she could respond, the chime rang again at her door. "Come in," she called less than enthusiastically.

Will Riker stepped into the room, but when he saw Lieutenant Soto, he hesitated. "Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"No, Commander," Amy said, standing from her place on the couch. "I was just leaving."

She turned back to Deanna. "Good night. Promise you'll give it some thought?"

Deanna nodded. "Yes, I'll think about it," she agreed. And Amy Soto walked out the door.

"Think about what?" Will asked as the doors slid shut.

Deanna considered sharing their odd conversation, but she hadn't had a chance to digest it yet, and just wanted a while to think it over herself before rehashing it with him. "It's nothing," she said casually as he stood before her. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd stop by and see if you wanted to join me for dinner," he said. Will had been eating at least one meal a day with her for weeks. It seemed like his way of making sure that at least once a day she ate.

"I ate a late lunch," she told him. He raised his eyebrow at her. "I'd say to check my replicator, but I'm sure you already have," she said in a sarcastic tone.

"When are you gonna let that go?" he asked. "I told you, I just looked so you couldn't use it as an excuse. I'm sorry. Okay?"

When Will had first told her that he had been watching her replicator, her first thought was shock that he would spy on her. Her next had been absolute panic that he had seen that she had replicated the Fala root her second night out of sickbay. She had waited for him to hint that he knew, to give her a sign, but after weeks, he had said nothing and she figured that he really had only looked that once like he said. Still, she knew she could never make the mistake of replicating another from the replicator in her quarters. It hadn't been bright to do it the first time.

"You're going to beat me with that one for a while more, aren't you?" he asked her.

Deanna only shrugged, trying to keep up her playful facade.

"So did you really eat a late lunch?" he asked skeptically.

"I did," Deanna told him. "I went with Alexander's class on a field trip this morning to the zoological department to see some turtles that just hatched and I didn't get back until almost 14:00…" she watched him study her. "But I'd be happy to have something light, soup maybe with you while you eat, if it would make you feel better." It wasn't worth the argument. She could sip at some soup.

Will grinned back at her. "And you're not going to tell me what it is you're thinking about?" he asked again as he walked over to the replicator. Deanna watched him move around her quarters. She had wrapped the fala root in some linen in the drawer under the replicator. Even if he opened the drawer for some reason, it was unlikely that he would find it there. Still she watched him closely.

"Lieutenant Soto said think about it, not talk about it," she replied.

Will turned back to her, a plate of food in his hand, and scowled.

"Just let me think about it for a bit myself, okay? Then I'll talk to you about it."

"Okay, fair enough. Does that mean that we're eating in silence while you think? Or can we talk about other things?"

Deanna swatted him with the napkin next to his plate as she crossed behind him and got herself a small bowl of soup.

…

Deanna tossed and turned as she lay in bed before finally drifting off. The nights had gotten slowly easier to manage. Her tea was only her last resort. Still, tonight her mind churned with thoughts about returning to her job, even in some limited capacity. She didn't like that it scared her. She wasn't frightened of these people, though she was terribly afraid of letting them down. Finally she drifted off to thoughts of what it would be like to retrieve this small bit of her life.

She awoke several hours later. Something was wrong. Deanna rolled onto her back and felt something wet underneath her. She sat up slightly and reached down to feel the wetness between her legs. When she brought her hand back up above the covers she could see, even in the darkness, that it was blood. She pulled back the covers and moved out of the bed. It looked like a lot of blood as she sat staring at her sheets.

Adrenalin shot through her body as images flashed through her mind of bleeding heavily after hours of sexual assault, wondering what kind of damage had been done to her body. And now, she was bleeding…again. What was wrong? She clumsily ran to her dresser and retrieved her communicator. She didn't know what time it was. She didn't care. "Troi to Dr. Crusher," she paged and waited for a response.

It took a moment, but slowly Beverly's half asleep voice answered her. "Crusher here. Deanna, is something wrong?"

Deanna tried to fight the panic in her own voice. "Beverly, I'm sorry to wake you, but is there any way that you could meet me in sickbay?"

"Are you okay?" Beverly asked again.

"I don't know."

"I'm on my way. I'll meet you there. Crusher out."

…

Deanna sat at the end of a bio bed, clasping the sick bay gown to her. Beverly had already examined her, and run some blood work. She stood next to Deanna and placed a reassuring hand on her knee.

"It's perfectly normal," she tried to tell her again.

But Deanna only sneered up at her.

"It's an ordinary menstrual cycle," Beverly tried to reassure her.

"And the pain?" Deanna asked.

"You said yourself it was mild cramping. That's pretty normal."

"Not for me," Deana said resentfully. She didn't know if she truly didn't believe her friend, her doctor, or if she was just thoroughly embarrassed for dragging her out of bed to have her explain menstrual cycles in the middle of the night.

"I know that Betazoid females typically have only a light period once a year or so, and with the active contraceptive, you probably haven't had any menstrual cycle at all for some time, but with the stress and trauma…well, I just don't think it's that abnormal. Certainly nothing to worry about."

"But I'm bleeding…a lot," Deanna said quietly.

"I know," Beverly said patting her shoulder. "I know you are. But there is nothing wrong with you. I have examined every reproductive organ and your blood work confirms typical hormone levels that would accompany a menstrual cycle. I know it's heavier than you would expect, but you just need to chalk that up to everything your body has been through. Give yourself some time."

Deanna huffed. "Will there ever be a time when something will happen with my body that will not be explained by stress and trauma?" she asked desperately.

"Deanna, I think it will be a good six months before your body is completely healed from all it went through. It hasn't quite been two. Give yourself some time," she said again, more forcefully.

"And how long will this last?" she asked pointing down at her lower body, disgusted, as if they were in some sort of an argument.

"Another few days. Drink more water. Lay off the workouts a bit. You'll be fine."

Deanna nodded, her head down, studying her hands folded in her lap. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"For what?" Beverly replied, helping her down from the bed.

"For dragging you out of bed for nothing."

Beverly put her arm around Deanna's shoulders. "You were scared. I would have been too if I were you. Don't be sorry. I'm glad you called me. Come on, get changed. We can walk home together."

Beverly had accompanied her back to her quarters, but Deanna didn't have any real hope of going back to sleep. She curled up on the couch and watched the stars. But her mind drifted in and out of dark caverns and smelly tents, of dark sweltering rooms where after every attack blood would run down her thighs and she would curl up against the pain of being ripped apart from the inside out, her most tender and sensitive flesh being rubbed raw or ripped open.

Why did this have to happen? Why now? She hated her womanhood. She hated her body for its weakness. Something about it seemed that it was betraying her. But she didn't know why. She picked up her journal and began to write. She wrote and wrote as anger poured from her, until all that was left was some rational thought that this was natural, this is what made her a fear she held inside all those nights as she bled that they would take form her, not only her choice about what was happening to her in that moment, but that they would take away her future choice about a family and children…This was just part of that process, because she was still whole. They hadn't taken that from her. She had survived and along with her, the chance to have a family of her own one day.

She sat deep in thought, her journal in her lap, as she stared at the stars when the chime rang on her door. Morning had come to the ship. "Come in," she called and when she turned her head, Amy Soto stood waiting for her.

"Hello Deanna," she said looking at her. "I hope you got some sleep."

"Not really. But I'm fine," she said and for maybe the first time, she really meant it.

"I have a meeting with the captain this morning," Amy began. "I was wondering if you had an answer for him."

Deanna looked back at her journal and then to Amy Soto and nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "I think I'd like to try."

…

Captain Picard stepped out of the turbo lift late in the afternoon and walked onto his bridge. His first officer sat in the command chair, involved in his work.

"A word, Number One," he called as he continued on to his ready room. Will quickly stood and followed him.

Jean Luc Picard continued around the edge of his desk and sat down in his chair. Will took his seat across from him.

"So, I assume you heard about Deanna's decision," the captain told him.

Will felt his heart stop momentarily. Then he shook his head. "No, Sir. I don't believe that I have."

"Oh, I'm sorry Number One. I thought she would have talked it over with you. Counselor Troi will be returning to duty in a limited capacity. It will be a two-week trial with some non-emergent patients. Lieutenant Soto believes it's a good idea, and I tend to agree with her."

Will wiggled his eyebrows and sighed heavily.

"Do you disagree?" the captain asked surprised.

"No Sir. No. I'm…well…I'm just a bit surprised, that's all."

"She didn't speak to you before making her decision, I take it."

Will shook his head slightly puzzled. "No, she didn't. I didn't know that it was even something that was being discussed."

"It wasn't something that you were purposely left out of, Number One. Lieutenant Soto brought it up to me the day before yesterday and I suggested that she talk to Deanna about it and get back to me."

"I wasn't trying to insinuate that I was," Will told him. "I'm surprised that she didn't talk to me about it before getting back to you and to be honest, I'm a little surprised that she wanted to do it."

"Really?" the captain asked skeptically.

Will shrugged. "A few weeks ago, when she was still in sick bay, she told me that she was considering not coming back," he confessed. "I didn't know she'd changed her mind. I'm pleasantly surprised, but surprised all the same."

"Well, she has a few more days to think it through. I'm sure she'll talk it over with you," the captain told him. "You do think she's ready, don't you?"

Will paused, then with a deep sigh, he smiled. "I think she can do whatever she sets her mind to. This is a good first step and in two weeks, who knows, you know?"

The captain nodded his agreement. "We'll let her take it one step at a time until she's ready."

…

"Come on Counselor!" Commander Riker called walking into Deanna's bedroom on Tuesday night.

On Thursday she would begin her patient load, only a few at first, and take it slow over the next two weeks. But tonight was about socializing with her friends, and getting back into her old pattern. It was poker night, and Will had come to pick her up just to make sure she didn't back out. It was the first time she would head back into this kind of social situation since she had been injured. She was just a little jittery about it, as she pulled her hair back and put on a pair of earrings.

"It's not a fashion show, it's a poker game! Let's go!" he told her a little impatiently.

"Okay, okay," she said, turning around and walking toward him. "And everyone's going to be there?" she asked for the third time.

"Your friends," he reminded her. "Come on," he said, putting his arm around her and steering her towards the door. "It's gonna be great. It's a celebration!"

"A celebration?" Deanna asked. "A celebration of what?"

Will just shook his head and grinned. "You'll see."

They walked to the poker game and found Data, Geordi and Worf setting up the table.

"Hey, hey!" Geordi said excitedly as they entered the room. "It's the guest of honor!"

Deanna smiled back at them and took the seat Will pulled out for her. "It's been so long, I'm not sure I remember how to play," she told them sheepishly.

"The strategy of the game depends on the cards you hold," Data began.

Deanna reached out and patted Data's arm as he shuffled the cards with amazing speed. "I was being sarcastic, Data. I'm just out of practice."

"It would not be uncommon after a brain injury to have some memory loss," Data offered. "It would not be unheard of for you to not remember the intricacies of the game."

"Well, why don't you deal," Deanna told him. "And I'll take my chances."

Commander Riker and Commander Laforge burst out laughing. It was good to see her bite back.

"Crusher to Commander Riker," Dr. Crusher's voice came over the communicator.

Will tapped his comm. badge and responded. "Hey, Doc. You're late to the party."

"Well, I've been unavoidably detained," Beverly told him, and she was making no attempt to hide the irritation in her voice. "Can you please come to sick bay? I have a member of my medical staff waiting in my office for you."

"Uh, oh," Geordi whispered.

"Is there a problem?" Will asked the doctor.

"Oh, he's got a problem alright," Beverly said tersely.

Will sighed as he looked at the cards Data was dealing. "How does this involve me?" Will said, hoping he didn't sound like he was whining.

"Commander, I have two nurses sitting in different rooms to keep them from screaming at each other, and the man at the center of the argument seems quite pleased with himself. I am at the end of my rope here, and I am counting on you to come down here and wipe the smug smile off his face!"

"I'd go if I were you," Worf said quietly to his commanding officer.

Will raised one eyebrow and nodded. "I'm on my way," he said and tapped his communicator. He stood and turned to the four people at the table. "Sorry," he told them. "I shouldn't be too long. And I have a feeling I'll be back along with a chief medical officer in a very bad mood."

"Careful, Commander," Geordi warned him.

The rest were chuckling. "Why do I have the feeling Dr. Turner is in the middle of this?" he asked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Deanna's head. "Don't beat 'emtoo bad. I want to have a chance too when I get back."

"Should we wait for you?" Geordi asked as Will started towards the door.

"Nah, go ahead. Save me some." And with that Will was gone.

As the door shut behind him, the room fell awkwardly silent. Somehow it wasn't the same without Will there to act as a buffer. Deanna shifted in her seat, strangely aware of the others watching her. She had spent time with each of them, though Worf had always been with Alexander and still wasn't really willing to look her in the eye. She tried again to hold his gaze, but her stomach turned as he glanced away. Why was this so hard?

"Save him some of what?" she asked the others nervously.

The three of them looked back and forth amongst each other. Finally Geordi answered her. "We just wanted to get you something to celebrate your return to work," he told her. "It's not a big deal. We can wait for Commander Riker and Dr. Crusher if you want to."

Deanna tried to smile. She didn't want them to feel uncomfortable with her. "Well, what is it?"

Geordi glanced over to Worf, and then back to her, apparently deciding that they should proceed.

Worf stood up and went over to the counter where he picked up a large cake and brought it to the table. "Here," he offered placing it in the center of the table.

It was a large sheet cake, with white frosting and blue writing scrawled across it. It said _Congratulations! We Missed You!_

Deanna smiled as she read the words on the cake. "Thank you," she said quietly, still studying it.

"It's chocolate," Worf told her. "With chocolate mouse filling and white chocolate icing. Guinan made it."

"She didn't have to do that. Thank you so much. It's very kind."

"It was Worf's idea." Geordi chimed in and Deanna raised her face to look at Worf where he stood. He gave a stern look to Geordi, clearly not pleased with him for sharing that detail.

"We are pleased that you are returning to duty," Worf said simply, sitting back down in his chair.

The room returned to a hovering silence.

"Would you like some cake, Counselor?" Data finally asked.

Deanna felt her cheeks burn. The cake had been such a nice gesture she hadn't thought about it actually being edible, or that anyone would actually expect her to eat it. She tried to find any excuse, but as she looked around at the faces of the men that surrounded her, she couldn't think of anything. These men…her friends, she reminded herself quickly. But they were staring at her so closely, monitoring her every move.

Data noticed the increase in the counselor's breathing as her chest began to heave. "Are you feeling well, Counselor?" he asked her.

Deanna did not hear him. Her thoughts were pulling her off to another place, another time, where three men sat around her watching her expectantly, leering at her.

"Counselor?" Data inquired again, reaching out to lightly touch her arm.

Deanna jumped, and the others at the table leaned instinctively away from her, giving her space. "I'm sorry," Deanna said, trying to smile. "I got distracted."

The three men looked from one to another, questioning what to do.

"Did you want some cake?" Geordi asked her more cautiously.

"Umm," Deanna stammered trying to shake the images from her mind. _No one in this room would hurt you, _she told herself. _These are your friends. _Still, the images of the darkness and the firelight, the smell of the cooked meat, filled her memory. Deanna shook her head slowly and pinched her eyes shut as if she could physically push the memories away, but they flooded her senses anyway.

_Don't panic. These are your friends._ But she was loosing her battle.

The smoke from the fire burnt her eyes as one of the men led her to the fireside where the other two sat waiting for them. Deanna dropped weakly to her knees, unable to stand unsupported. Her head was spinning, her tongue was dry. If she didn't gainsome strength, she would never be able to fight back.

The wind blew the smoke away form her and for the first time she could see her captors clearly. One was a worn weathered man. He had been there in the caverns from the beginning, lurking quietly. If he had ever touched her, she couldn't remember it, but he certainly had never stopped what was happening or even turned away.

The second man was younger, more brash and headstrong. He had talked the whole journey, and he was extremely fond of his own expertise, apparently on a variety of topics. Something about his voice grated on her, and made her head throb. Perhaps it was the pitch of it, or the nasal quality.

_Oh, God, someone help me,_ she thought as he spoke again. It was the nasal sound. She recognized him now. He had been placed to guard her on her first night in the caverns. Her head had been throbbing and her shoulder shot pain through her whole arm when she moved, and he had raped her, three or four times in the space of a few hours, talking the whole time, telling her how much she should like and appreciated what he was teaching looked away from him. She didn't want to think about that.

The meat turned on a spit right in front of her. The smell of burning flesh was gone now, all that remained was meat. Fat drained off the meat as it turned, splashing into the flames and causing them to sputter and steam. If she could eat something, she could fight back. Her body swayed as she knelt on the ground. The cuts on her back were crusted over with puss, and every movement tore painfully at their scabs. Still, she put her good arm down to brace herself against falling over.

Now she looked at the third man. He was by far the youngest, no more than his mid twenties. His hair hung low on his forehead and he often pulled it out of his eyes, making him appear more boyish than he may have actually been. He looked at her with a curiosity that the others did not, as if he found something intriguing about her. _Exotic,_ he had called her. He lacked the cruelty in his eyes that the other two shared. He reminded her of someone. Maybe it was the way he sat, or the boyish fascination in his eyes. _Wesley Crusher_, she thought and was immediately ashamed of the thought. Beverly's son would never treat her like this. But this was a different planet, a different culture. If Wesley had been raised here, what would he have been like? How would he have acted towards her?

The talker of the group walked towards her and bent down to look into her face. The look in his eyes bore into her, more powerful than the sense of control that his emotions exuded.

Deanna lowered her eyes. She didn't want to look at him.

He grabbed her chin and forced her face back toward his. Still, she kept her eyes low.

"Oh, now, now. Don't fake humility now," he told her as his nasal voice whispered close to her ear. "I know what you're really like." He brushed the back of his hand along the side of her face, the coarse ridge down the middle, rough against her skin. "Do you know what happened here today?" he asked her.

Deanna sat slumped to the ground, her eyes down. She did not speak.

"We sold you. That man here earlier, he paid a good price. I've heard people talk about Mortian and his family."

"I heard his father would kill him soon as look at him the moment he thinks he's getting too powerful," the older man said from the side of the fire.

"I heard he makes breaking in women a hobby. Then he sells 'emoff, usually not much left of 'emthen."

Deanna's heart sank. She was fairly certain that was what had been happening as she drifted in and out of consciousness in the hot sun, but she didn't know if it would be better or worse for her. In the caverns, she had a hope that the Enterprise would have a starting point to begin to look for her. Now, she didn't know where she was. Would this next place truly be worse than the last, where she was whipped and raped?…was that even possible?...Death. Death would be the only thing worse, and at times she wasn't sure that death was not preferable.

Somewhere in her mind the officer in her spoke, and it was like it was a different person, someone far away from her, someone cold and strategic. It was Worf's voice in her mind.

_They will be weakest as they move. Try to escape while you travel. You must regain your strength. _

_I can't, _she answered herself. _I have had nothing to eat or drink. I'm too weak._

_Take what you need, and plan for their moment of weakness._

"He's not like us," the talker said in his nasal voice. "We're far more civilized."

Deanna couldn't hide her wince at the thought of this malefactor in front of her being civilized.

"You don't think much of us, do you? Where do you come from that you would expect any better? Are you an off worlder? Is that where you got that high and mighty attitude?"

Deanna did not look at him or speak.

"It's too bad really. We were just discussing how hungry you must be," he said as he rose to walk away from her.

She knew it was a trap, a game he was playing with her, but she couldn't stop herself, her physical drive for survival was too strong. Her head snapped up and, when it did, he turned to face her again.

He grabbed a piece of meat from off the spit in the fire. It was so tender it shredded with his touch. He bent down until he was right in her face and took a bite of it. The smell filled the air around her and her stomach growled loudly, without her consent.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as if it was the first time the thought had occurred to him. He wanted to be in complete control of her choices.

_It is only a game. It is only the illusion of control. If you get what you want and are able to escape, you have conquered __him__ and the control is yours. _

"There is plenty here for you to eat and drink," the talker told her, gesturing back to where the other two men sat. "We would be happy to share," he said casually, then his voice turned cold as he stood in front of her and began untying the waist of his pants. He dangled the remaining chunk of meat between them, just at her mouth level. "You know you want it. And you know what you need to do to get it, don't you?"

…

Deanna sat motionless, except for the slight shaking of her head, her eyes closed tightly and her face ghostly pale.

Geordi tried to draw her out of wherever she was. He cut a small piece of cake and slid it across the table to her. "Come on Counselor," he said in a teasing voice. "You know you want it…"

Deanna's eyes flew open and she stood so suddenly that the chair toppled backwards behind her with a horrid crashing noise. Her eyes were wide with sheer terror. She could feel her hands trebling as she panted for air. She had to run, had to get away. She looked back at the three men sitting at the table. Did they know? _Oh, God. No!_

"I have to go." The words chocked from her throat.

Geordi opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him.

"I'm sorry," she said, as she looked frantically around the room. "I just…I'm sorry." She backed away, her panicked eyes shifting from one to the other, until she heard the doors open behind her. In one quick motion, she spun around and ran.

Geordi looked helplessly to Data and Worf on either side of him, wondering what he had done.

"I do not know," Data responded to his unasked question.

"Commander Riker's gonna kill me," Geordi said, shaking his head.

But Worf stood calmly. "Excuse me," he said as he strode after her, out the door.

Deanna waited at the turbo lift, frantically punching the button to call it, over and over and over again, begging for it to hurry. She knew he was behind her even before he spoke, but she didn't turn around. She had to get away from him, from them. She pushed the button again. But it wasn't coming fast enough._ Calm down! _She screamed at herself. _This is Worf. You are safe. _But her hands were shaking and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Counselor," he called to her, but Deanna continued to hit the button, willing the lift to come faster.

"Deanna," he said, much quieter, as he stood as close to her as he dared. He knew that one wrong step would send her running down the corridor away from him.

It was the calm in his voice, and that he had called her by her first name, that gave her the strength to turn around and face him. She wiped quickly at her eyes with her trembling hands and then turned to watch him where he stood, tall and calm.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Yes, Worf. I'm fine," she told him, but she could hear the tremble in her own voice.

Worf watched her for a moment, trying to understand her actions. "Deanna," he said reaching out for her arm, hoping to stop the trembling that he could easily see.

Deanna looked down at his hand on her skin, dark against the pale of her arm, and the ridge that lay across the top of his skin. She felt the panic in her continuing to spiral out of control. She looked up into his eyes that held nothing but concern, but instead all she could see was the ridge of his forehead, and with it came the image of Worf pulling her roughly to him, months and months ago, growling low as he bit into her shoulder, and she couldn't help but pull away from him.

There was a look of terror in her eyes as she watched him. It was the look he had been dreading, though he knew it would come. It wasn't that he would ever force her, ever hurt her or disrespect her the way that she had been, but sooner or later he knew that look would come. The look that said he was too much like the men that had hurt her, too forceful, too animalistic. And on top of it all, he was unable to protect her, or even explain to his son what had happened to her. He was a failure on all counts.

It was Commander Riker she wanted now, Commander Riker that she found comfort in. However, Commander Riker was not here now and he couldn't let her run away from him so easily. He still loved her too much to let that happen.

Worf took another step back. "If we did anything to upset you…If _I_ did anything that offended you…"

Deanna rubbed at the area of her skin where he had touched her, as if it had seared her skin. Tears were still pouring from her eyes. She couldn't stop the fear inside her. She just had to get away. "Please, Worf," she pleaded. "I can't…please." She heard the lift doors slide open behind her and she stepped backwards toward it, unwilling to turn her back on him.

"Deanna," he said taking a step toward her.

"I'm sorry. Just let me go."

She looked petrified. Tears were staining her cheeks, and she was frantically looking around her, like a trapped animal. Worf took a step back, unwilling to frighten her any more. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and watched her stumble back into the lift. There was nothing that he could do to stop her now, and, helplessly, he watched the doors close between them.

---

Will and Beverly strode back into the officer's lounge laughing. "Oh, I was going to wring his neck!" Beverly said as they rounded the corner into the room and found three somber men sitting at the table, quietly talking, but the cards sat untouched in the center. The silence was contagious and quickly infected the two of them.

Geordi slowly looked up to meet the commander's gaze.

"Where's Deanna?" Will asked looking around the small room.

Geordi looked over at Data desperately.

"She left, shortly after you did, Sir," Data replied.

"Why?"

"That was unclear, Sir. But we offered her some of the cake and she-"

"She freaked out!" Geordi interrupted. "I don't know what happened."

Beverly looked between the men at the table and back to Commander Riker. "Was it about the cake? It was about the cake wasn't it?" Beverly asked, scowling at the first officer.

"It wasn't about the cake," Will said defensively.

"No it's about eating anything, not just cake," Beverly corrected.

"It's not about the cake!" Will yelled back, as their voices rose with each word. "She eats, Beverly. She does! I have watched her do it!"

"So why'd she leave?" Beverly asked. The three men at the table stayed in their seats watching the two officers argue. "I'm talking to Amy about this."

"Beverly," Will protested. "She is just getting her feet back under her. Don't pull the rug out from under her now!"

"Ah, what… Ahh!" Beverly said, apparently too frustrated to form a complete, more eloquent, sentence as she huffed into a seat next to Worf.

"I'll talk to her. I'll see what happened," Will said, heading for the door. "Geordi, give me that piece of cake," he said. Geordi handed him the slice of cake and Will smiled at Beverly. "She'll eat it," he told her. "It's not about the cake."

Deanna sat on her couch, her knees tucked to her chest, rocking back and forth…waiting, simply waiting. She knew he would come and she knew she would have to try to explain. Once she was alone and safe she realized that Data, Geordi and Worf had no idea what had happened. They were not leering at her or expecting anything from her. They were only trying to congratulate her, to be her friends. Even Worf had reached out to her and she had run away. She had behaved like a crazy fool, and she felt humiliated.

He didn't ring the chime, but she didn't jump when the doors opened either. She was expecting him. He walked in and sat down on the couch in front of her. Slowly he put the plate with the cake on the table and leaned back and sighed.

"So," he began, trying to keep his tone casual, "that didn't go too well."

Deanna only huffed and tucked her head to her knees, continuing to rock.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked reaching his arm out around her on the couch.

"They must think I'm crazy," she said, her words muffled by her knees.

"I'm sorry I left you there like that. I didn't mean to."

Deanna shook her head and looked up. "I panicked," she said quietly. "I couldn't stop picturing it, and it was like it was happening all over again and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't fight it back. Maybe I'm not ready, Will. Maybe I should talk to the captain. I couldn't even play poker with my friends. What was I thinking?"

Will scooted closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. "Hey, hey. It's okay. Two steps forward, one step back. You had a bad night. You had a flashback. It's okay. It happens. Do you want to talk about it?" But Deanna shook her head. "Was it something they said or did that made you uncomfortable?"

"No, Will. They didn't do anything. Ahh! They must think I'm crazy. I acted like a complete idiot."

"They don't think you're crazy. They _are_ concerned about you. Why don't you come back with me?"

Deanna shook her head violently. "No, I can't. I feel like a fool."

"Okay, well, then lets at least eat some of your cake."

Deanna shook her head again. "My stomach is a little upset," she told him honestly. "Leave it. I'll eat it for breakfast."

Will stifled a chuckle. "Healthy," he told her.

She only shrugged.

"Okay, get some rest. I'm gonna go tell the others that you're okay. Don't make decisions too quickly. Why don't you sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning?"

Slowly she nodded. Will patted her gently on the knee as he stood up. "Hey," he said, turning almost to the door. "Will you have dinner with me tomorrow? Say 19:00, in Ten forward?"

"Ten forward?" Deanna asked again.

Will nodded solemnly. "It's time to come out of hiding, Dea. I'll stay with you this time, I promise. Meet me in Ten forward?"

Deanna sighed, but slowly nodded her head. She knew he was right. She couldn't hide forever.

…

Deanna stepped into Ten forward at a little after 19:00, wearing a blue dress, her hair pulled up, and feeling more than a little nervous about eating in a room full of people.

She looked around the room that was busy, but not yet crowded. There were many faces that she recognized and nodded and smiled to, until she spotted the back of Will Riker's head at a table near the window, sitting with Geordi Laforge, Data and Worf. Deanna froze in her place just inside the door.

It wasn't long before Geordi spotted her and gave a quick nod of his head to Commander Riker. Will turned slowly in his seat to find Deanna glaring at him from the doorway. He stood and with a quick motion to the other men, walked towards her, smiling casually.

"Hi, Dea," he said as he approached.

Deanna looked from Will to the table where the three men sat. Her one eyebrow was raised.

"Okay, I should have told you," he admitted as he glanced back at the other three people apparently joining them for dinner. "But then you would have worried all day, and now you only have to worry about it for about a minute. See?"

He wasn't convincing her. "Will," she scolded.

"It's gonna be fine. Look, Dea, they're your friends. And I've already told them that neither of you are allowed to apologize. Last night's a wash and we're going to start fresh tonight."

Deanna only stared at him, clearly scowling. But Will swung his head back towards the table where the others waited, and began to guide her toward it. "It's gonna be great."

"I hate you," Deanna mumbled under her breath, and she heard Will chuckle.

Deanna could feel the sweat in the palms of her hands as she fought to keep her breathing even and steady.

The three men stood to greet her as they reached the table.

"Hello Counselor."

"Hey, Deanna."

Worf only nodded formally.

"Hello," Deanna responded, though her voice was softer than she had intended. "I'm sorry for-"

"Uh, uh," Will said pointing at her and he shook his head in response to her look of frustration.

Deanna sighed and turned back to the others. "So, how are you today?" she asked with a sidelong glare at the man next to her.

Geordi laughed and replied quickly before his commander could cut him off. "Me too," he said.

Will threw up his hands in frustration, but it did succeed in making the table less tense, as the conversation began more easily.

It wasn't long until the server came along and everyone ordered their dinners.

When the server came to Deanna there was a long pause, as everyone watched her. "I'll have a hot chocolate," she finally said.

"And?" the server asked puzzled.

"That's all," Deanna said nodding shyly as she heard Will sigh next to her.

The server nodded and stepped away from the table.

"Can I speak to you for a minute?" Will asked pulling at her elbow before she had a chance to respond. He pulled her a few steps from the others. "Excuse me, sorry," he said getting the servers attention, then motioned for him to give them a moment, and turned back to Deanna. "What is that Betazoid dish with the vegetables and the noodles," he asked her.

"Chatchlet?" Deanna relied.

"Thank you," he said turning back to the server. "She'll have that. Thank you."

The server nodded again and stepped away.

"Chatchlet?" Deanna begged.

"Hot Chocolate?" he asked in return.

They both headed back to the table. "Now you're just really getting on my nerves," she mumbled to him.

"I'm prepared to accept the consequences of my actions," he said casually as he smiled at her and sat back down. Deanna continued to scowl until she reached her seat, then turned to the others and plastered the smile back onto her face.

The conversation continued with only a few awkward pauses. Deanna tried to distract herself when she began to feel uncomfortable by looking around the room, and observing the people around them. Off in the far corner, she saw Amy Soto sitting and eating with a man she didn't recognize.

"Who's that?" Deanna asked indicating the direction of Amy Soto's table.

The four men turned their heads trying to be discreet, as they looked across the room.

"The guy with Lieutenant Soto?" Will asked. "I don't know him."

"That is Lieutenant Burns. He is new to the torpedo security detail," Worf told them.

"Are they dating?" Deanna asked curiously watching their interactions. It was odd to see her like this.

"I do not know," Worf responded.

"I'd put my money on yeah," Will said looking away from them.

"Weird," Geordi said. "Who would date the head shrinker?"

Everyone at the table stopped and looked around at one another.

"Oh, no offence, Counselor," Geordi fumbled, realizing what he had said. Then noticing that Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf were both still looking around awkwardly, he added, "Or anyone else at the table." Geordi sighed. "Open mouth, insert foot," he said to himself. "It's just that she's not…I mean she's…you're."

"She is not like you," Data broke in for his friend.

"Yeah, I mean she's…you've always been a friend and I…I don't know. It's not that she's not nice, it's just that…" Geordi continued to fumble.

"She's not you," Worf finished Geordi's sentence for him just as the server approached.

"I would never call you a head shrinker," Geordi added.

"I'm surprised. I thought that you all thought she was easy to talk to," Deanna said, trying to not sound bitter, as she picked up her fork and began picking at her food while the others dug in.

"I did," Will confessed.

"As did I. I found her advice timely and appropriate," Data chimed in.

"She has been of some assistance," Worf admitted, a bit begrudgingly.

"What? She hasn't been helpful for you?" Geordi asked her.

Deanna chased a slice of vegetable around her plate, yet to take a bite. She shrugged a bit, but nodded. "Yes, I suppose. I think she's very good at her job."

"Doesn't mean it's easy," Will told her.

"Well, I'm sure she'd tell you I'm not an easy patient."

"Good, the next time we're being difficult, you might cut us some slack," Geordi said sarcastically.

"Like when you call me a head shrinker?" Deanna asked him. Both Worf and Will began to stifle laughter and the rest quickly joined in.

Deanna saw Will watching her closely. She still hadn't eaten anything off her plate. She felt his hand move to her knee under the table and give it a light squeeze. She felt her heart start to pound and she fought her instinct to push his hand away. But she looked back to his face and saw the encouraging smile on his face, calm and reassuring. She sighed heavily, and he moved his hand away from her with a light pat.

_Open your mouth, take a bite, _she encouraged herself. She glanced around quickly and found Data looking at Worf and Geordi eating his own food. With one deep breath, she quickly put the piece of vegetable into her mouth. Then her stomach began to churn.

_Chew and swallow Chew and swallow._ Her stomach churned and she fought her gag reflex as she swallowed. Her hand covered her mouth as she fought back the urge to vomit.

"Are you feeling well, Counselor?" Data asked her.

Deanna fought a smile through the retching of her stomach. She nodded. "Fine," she said quickly and put a noodle in her mouth and continued on as fast as she could. After a few more rushed bites, she knew she would not be able to keep the food she was ingesting down. All she had to do was fight through it.

After another few bites, her stomach was aching and cramping. Data and Worf were watching her, though they were trying to be discrete.

Will reached his arm around her and placed it on the back of her chair, hoping it would calm her down. She was eating unnaturally fast, and had stopped talking once she started in on her food. It was like she was fighting a battle, and from the looks of it, she was dangerously close to loosing it.

Deanna tried to stand up casually, but the four men at the table rose with her. "Sorry, gentlemen," she told them. "I'm just running to the little girls'room." She stepped away from the table and the men sat down, but she could feel their eyes follow her as she walked towards the door. She tried not to move too fast or look conspicuous.

As soon as she was out the door, she hurried to one of the few public restrooms on the deck. Once she was inside, she sat on the floor and grabbed at her stomach. She didn't want to do this, but she couldn't fight it. She pressed her head to the cold surface of the counter, hoping it would ease the cramping and sick feeling overtaking her body. No, there was nothing else to do, she was already breaking out in a cold sweat. She groaned and it echoed in the small empty room and then she gave up and vomited until her stomach was empty.

It was over quickly and left her laying on the floor gasping for air. The floor was also cool and it felt good against her clammy skin. But she knew she couldn't stay there much longer.

Deanna drew herself up off the floor and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, and her skin was pasty and sweaty. She splashed water on her face and ran her damp hands along her hair, but she still did not look good. She was too pale. Quickly she pinched at her cheeks, trying to bring back some color and then stepped out of the room.

She didn't make it more than a step when she found Amy Soto leaning against the opposite wall in the corridor, apparently waiting for her.

"Counselor," Deanna said.

"Counselor," Amy repeated. "Everything okay?"

Deanna froze. She couldn't run and she couldn't hide.

"You see your first patient tomorrow, right?" Amy asked.

Deanna nodded.

"What time is that?"

"Ah," Deanna cleared her throat against the harsh, scratchy sound of her own voice. "It's at 13:00."

"Good, then we can meet at 9:00. I'll see you in the office."

"Amy," Deanna began to protest.

"That's not a request, Counselor. You will be at your office at 09:00." Amy nodded. "We can discuss this, then." And with that she turned and walked away, leaving Deanna alone in the corridor.

Deanna stood with her head down, her eyes on the carpet. It was over. In the morning she would have to tell her secret.

"Deanna."

The voice startled her. She looked up and found Worf standing in the doorway to Ten forward watching her.

"Are you alright?"

Deanna didn't trust her voice. She just nodded.

"We were concerned."

"I'm fine," she said, though her voice sounded oddly distant and quiet. "Worf," she called. "I'm sorry about last night. I'm sorry about before, about all of it."

"Deanna, I never meant to frighten you."

Deanna looked back into Worf's face and this time he didn't look away.

"We had better get back," he said gesturing towards the lounge. Deanna nodded and he offered her his hand. She could feel her hand trembling against his as he closed his hand around hers and led her back to join the others.


	14. Rescue 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

**Chapter 14**

At 8:45 Deanna walked into her office for the first time in months. She wore her uniform, crisp and clean, her communicator pinned neatly on the front, and her hair pinned back so it flowed down her back. The office looked bare without her things in it, especially her desk. It was an odd feeling knowing someone else had been here, doing her job, for weeks.

She walked to the replicator and ordered a hot chocolate, then settled onto the couch, sipping her drink and breathing deeply as she waited for Lieutenant Soto. She had been up most of the night, reliving it, analyzing it, knowing that Amy would not give her the option _not_ to share. She had rehearsed it in her mind, knew what she would say, but still she was scared.

"Deanna," Amy said as she entered and found Deanna sitting on the couch with her eyes closed. "I thought you might make me come get you," she told her.

Deanna didn't speak, just shook her head and then looked around the office.

"What do you think?" Amy asked her tentatively, sitting in the chair next to the couch.

"It looks bare. Cold, even," Deanna said a bit harshly.

"Well, I'm sure you'll change that," Amy replied, no hint of emotion showing. "It should work well if I use the office in the mornings and you have the afternoons. What do you think?"

Deanna shrugged. She couldn't think about anything like that. She didn't want to ease into it. She would prefer it to be quick… Painful either way, but quick would be preferable.

As if Amy could sense Deanna's thoughts, she leaned back and her air changed to one of personal detachment. "Deanna," she began. "I would like to talk about last night. Is bulimia something that you have struggled with for a long time or is it only recently?"

Deanna furrowed her brow. "I'm not bulimic," she said firmly.

"You ate dinner with your friends and then left the table and went into the restroom and vomited. Sometimes it is referred to as purging."

"I didn't feel well."

"And how often have you 'not felt well'?"

Deanna sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. Occasionally, I have been very sick."

"Deanna," Amy cut her off. "You aren't eating. And when you do eat, you apparently vomit. Why?"

Deanna shrugged. It was harder than she thought it would be.

"What happened? Food is the trigger for some form of trauma. You know as well as I do that it will not get better or go away on its own. I think you know what started this. I would like you to tell me about it."

Deanna hung her head and began to take deep calming breaths. Somehow saying it out loud was harder than she had anticipated.

"Deanna, secrets are like poison. They rot you from the inside out. I can see now that you are carrying something very heavy that you have locked inside, your secret. What is it that you are so afraid of?"

Silence hung heavily in the room, but Amy waited for Deanna to feel safe enough to respond.

"Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn't my fault, that I'm not responsible," Deanna whispered, her voice leaving her. Her body was shaking. "It makes it tolerable for them. They can stomach being around me, still respect me because it was not my fault. But what if that weren't true? What if some of it was my fault? What then?"

Amy studied her for a moment, the way she hugged herself to offer herself support through it. "That is a very good question," she told her. "What then?" she asked.

Deanna looked up at her counselor, confused.

"What if some of what happened to you _was_ your fault. What would that mean?"

Deanna fought back the tears that sprang to her eyes. "I..ah…It would mean that I'm not who they think I am, not who I thought I was."

"Deanna, I would like you to tell me what you did that you think is so out of character."

Deanna closed her eyes tightly and began to slowly rock back and forth, her arms holding herself tight, as if trying to protect herself from what she was about to say. "After a few days on the planet, a few of them took me outside the city. I was sold to the town elder's son. Before I left the caverns, I hadn't eaten or been given anything to drink at all. I was weak. I wanted to fight back. I wanted to get away, but I was too weak to run, too weak to fight. I was starving, and dehydrated. When they were moving me, the night before they took me into the town, there were three men. They had food and water, and they told me they would let me eat and drink all I wanted. But they wanted something in exchange." Deanna choked back a sob.

"They wanted you to have sex with them, and in exchange they would give you food and water," Amy finished for her as tears spilt down Deanna's face. Deanna nodded. "What about that would make what happened to you your fault?"

"They didn't force me. They would have left me alone…if I would have said no."

"But you didn't say no?" Amy asked her.

Deanna shook her head, her eyes shut tight.

"Did you initiate it?" Amy continued, but a long silence was her only answer.

"I only wanted to get the strength to fight back. I had to eat something. I was starving!" Deanna cried. "I didn't see another option," she said defensively.

Amy calmly held out a hand for Deanna to stop. "You are safe here." Her quiet voice was in stark contrast to Deanna's own shrill panic. "I wasn't judging you, Deanna. I was simply trying to understand what happened to you." The two women watched each other for a moment. Deanna's hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her breathing hard but rhythmic. Finally, Amy spoke again. "After you had intercourse with these men,"

Deanna shook her head slightly and whispered quietly. "That wasn't what they wanted." She wouldn't look up to see Amy's reaction.

Amy nodded, remaining calm and even to reassure her patient. "Okay," she tried again. "After you preformed sex acts, did they let you eat?"

"Yes."

"And drink?"

"Yes." Deanna's eyes remained on her hands clenched in her lap.

"Then what happened?"

Deanna sniffed. "I got sick."

"You vomited."

"Yes."

"Was it the food that made you sick?"

Deanna shrugged.

"It may have been that your stomach was not prepared for what was put into it."

Deanna nodded as a tear slipped again down her cheek.

"Or is it possible that you were sick with what you had done?"

More tears spilled down her cheeks.

"And you go back to that night every time you eat," Amy said. It was a statement, not a question. "And you haven't told anyone?"

"No," Deanna cried. "They can't know! If he knew, it…I…it would change everything."

"Who?" Amy asked.

"The crew, my colleagues, my mother!"

"You said 'he'."

"They," she corrected herself.

"If he knew, it would change everything." Amy repeated Deanna's words. "Who?"

Deanna glared at this woman sitting in her office, counseling her as if she didn't have two advanced psychological degrees.

"Secrets are like poison. They rot you from the inside out," Amy repeated. "If he knew, it would change everything." Amy waited for Deanna to respond, but she sat silently.

"Commander Riker?" she asked softly.

"He can't know," Deanna whispered. "If he knew…"

"He would think you aren't who he thinks you are?" Amy asked as Deanna continued to cry on the couch, silently. "You love him," Amy said simply.

"He's always… been there," Deanna said between sobs.

"And you think this would change this?"

"I chose. I chose!" she said pointing viciously into her chest. "I chose to do what I did."

"You're afraid he would abandon you, leave you."

"Again," Deanna murmured.

Amy paused and watched her. "That's the second time you have said that," Amy said remembering their first meeting. "You mean on the planet? He took the ambassador and you were left behind."

Deanna said nothing.

"And when he came to rescue you, he left you there for another day. He left you again."

Deanna still sat silently.

Amy watched her. It was like she was building a wall around herself. Amy hadn't gotten through. She was missing a piece, somehow.

"When did he leave you?" Amy asked compassionately.

"We dated," Deanna told her. "It was years ago. He was stationed on Betazed and I was in school. We dated."

"And when he was transferred?" Amy asked. Deanna closed her eyes tightly, but did not respond. "He left you," Amy concluded, and Deanna began to cry again. And it all began to make more sense. "Deanna, I need you to look at me," Amy told her, leaning forward to be nearer to her. "You're afraid of what would happen if people knew what you did, what would happen if Will Riker knew. I want you to follow that train of thought through to its inevitable conclusion. What then? What is your worst fear?"

Deanna paused while she thought about the question. "He would look at me like I'm a whore and he…I would loose my friend, my best friend, my…" she let the sentence die away.

"And then what? What would that mean for you?" Amy asked, but Deanna did not answer. "I know that would hurt you, deeply. So then what? What would that mean for you?"

"I couldn't stay here. Not like that. I'd leave."

"Leave the ship?"

Deanna nodded.

"Star Fleet?"

Deanna hesitated. "I don't know."

"Would you continue counseling?"

"I don't know. I think so."

"What would your life be like?"

"Lonely," Deanna finally answered.

"And do you think your life would stay like that forever?"

Deanna shrugged.

"Would you live?" Amy continued despite Deanna's confused look. "Would your heart continue to beat? Your lungs continue to breathe? Will it be more torturous than what happened to you on Galia Prime?"

"I don't know. No, I suppose not."

"Because you survived that, Deanna. You survived. And I believe that even though it would be hard, you would live through this, if that were what would happen. By the way, I don't believe that he would react that way. I don't know him as well as you do, but I do know that he loves you, cares deeply for you, and that whatever else has happened, however he left, he has always come back to you."

Deanna sat unmoving on the sofa, lost in her own thoughts.

"And it was not your choice. No matter how they made you feel about it, whatever choice you believed you were making…When someone holds complete control of your life, food, water, air…you lack the ability to consent. What happened that night was no different than what happened on any other occasion. It was the illusion of control that you felt. But the illusion of control and consent are not the same thing."

Deanna looked up, surprised by Amy's comment. "I…" she began, but changed her mind. "I haven't thought of it like that."

Amy sighed and leaned forward, closer to her patient. "It's been long enough," she told her. "It's time to reclaim your life, if you want it. That means making some hard decisions, showing the kind of courage you did every day on that planet. You have been making it through, day by day, getting by, only allowing yourself to skim the surface of your anxieties, putting a bandage on the immediate problem and trying to move on. You have been doing triage to your own emotions, and it has worked fairly well so far. But if you want your life back, you need to stop, go back, take off the bandage and heal the wound."

"Face your fears, Deanna. That is the road that will lead you back to the life you want to have. What you have been doing until now will only help you get by for so long. And it will be just enough to get 't you want more than that? Don't you deserve more? I know you are strong enough to do this. If you weren't you wouldn't still be alive. And I know you know how to do it. But it must be your choice. Let go of the secrets, let go of the shame and anger. Tell him what happened, why you are afraid to eat, what it makes you feel. Trust him. Believe in him."

Deanna took in what she was told, slowly and without visible reactions, as she mentally reevaluated herself.

"Could you meet me here again on Monday at the same time? I'd like to follow up with whatever choice you have made," Amy finally spoke.

Deanna nodded vaguely, still lost in thought.

"You should go home and get some of your personal things before Ensign Dillard comes. I don't want her to feel like it's cold in here when she gets here this afternoon." Slowly

Amy stood and straightened her uniform. "I'll go now and let you get reacquainted with the place."

"What?" Deanna asked shocked. "You are still…I…you think I should still.."

"Go back to work? Yes, absolutely. Face your fear, Deanna. It's time. And I'll be close by if you need me. I hope you have a good day."

With a soft and sincere smile Amy walked out of the office, leaving her patient alone. Sitting in her otherwise deserted office, Deanna felt oddly small, like a child in an adult world.

Unsure of what to do, Deanna walked back to her own quarters as if she was in some sort of a daze. She found the picture of her parents that had been on her desk for years and placed it by the door to carry back to her office. Then she sat on the couch and began to look around the room. What else should she take back to her office? What else might she need? Her eyes drifted over to the drawer that held the wrapped up fala root. She could feel the fluttering anxious feeling in her stomach. Every second it grew nearer to the time she would see her first patient, her anxiety grew along with it. What if she couldn't do this? What if she needed help? Slowly she stood and walked to the drawer and removed the long fala root from its wrap. She swiftly broke off a section and walked towards the door, then reached back, grabbed the captain's book of poetry and slipped the fala root inside the pages and tucked it to her chest with the picture of her parents and headed back to her office.

She placed the photo on her desk, locked the piece of the fala root in a drawer and took the book to the couch with her. She sat on the couch, the book on the table next to her.

Was it possible that she had not been willing to heal the wounds, only bandage the surface? If it were, what would it take to reclaim her life? Amy had said that she knew what to do, but she wasn't sure that she did. Wasn't she fighting as hard as she couldn't, doing everything she knew how?

Deanna felt confused and overwhelmed and somehow less sure of her abilities than she ever had, and in only two hours she would be seeing a patient she was sure she would have no idea how to help.

_What am I doing?_ She thought. Though it seemed a bit late to run away now. She needed to focus. With a sigh, Deanna pulled the book back into her lap and opened it and began to read. The words, at first, were not being retained at all, but slowly after she read a few poems began to seep into her consciousness, and struckat her heart. She looked to the title of the poem, and the line art of a wooded path, a road less traveled. And it made all the difference. _All the difference_. What road was she taking? What if maybe Amy was right? What was it she needed to do? _Face your fears._ Did Deanna know her fears?

She stood and went back to her desk, the book of poetry still in her hands and began to write on a PADD. _What is it I'm afraid of?_ She thought. _Well, let's start with what we talked about this morning…_

Deanna began to write and write. Her list went on for almost twenty items, some minor and others more paralyzing. They were scattered in no particular order, just how they had randomly occurred to her. Somehow the lack of organization annoyed her, and somehow unconsciously she knew she would re-write it into a more organized fashion at some point. As she read the list back to herself, she felt the anxiety of facing and conquering each one of them start to overwhelm her. _One at a time,_ she told herself as tears sprug to her eyes. It was everything that she had been taught to break through the pain. If what she had been doing wasn't working, and in her heart, she knew it wasn't, then what else was there to do?

Twenty minutes until her first counseling appointment, the book of poetry lay open across her desk, a mug of empty hot chocolate on the table by the couch. Tears streaked her cheeks, and she sat clutching the list, trembling. This was not the way to begin. She had to clear her head from the clutter of her own emotions. She scrambled around the room, putting things right, and then sat at her desk, taking deep cleansing breaths. Finally she opened her eyes and took the PADD containing her list and slipped it into the drawer with the chunk of fala root. She stared at the root for a moment longer. She just needed to clear her mind, mute her own emotions to allow her to get through the hour ahead of her. Was it possible that she just needed a little help? Deanna reached down and broke a tiny piece of root off in her fingers. It was far less than she had ever taken, but she did not want to be tired. She just needed to ease her mind.

She walked quickly to the replicator. "One mug of hot water with lemon and honey and a small kitchen knife." The items instantly appeared in front of her. With one motion, she crushed the small section of root and dropped it into the water where it disappeared.

Deanna looked at the time, seven minutes. She began to sip at the tea. And by the time the chime on the door rang, she was beginning to feel a calm deep inside her, like everything that was distressing her was pushed somehow to the back of her mind.

…

It had been so long that the routine of making logs and notes in patient files seemed to take two or three times as long as it should have. She had seen two patients, and by the time she was done, all she wanted to do was to go home and go to bed. How was it possible that she used to do a full day of this? As she gathered up a few things she picked up the list she had made earlier in the day. _Which road will I travel? _She asked herself, then with a deep sigh, she took the PADD in her hand.

Item one: Tell Will.

"I have to start somewhere," she told herself. "It might mean leaving this life behind. But if I will have to leave to cope, isn't it better to know it now?"

She knew what she needed to do. All she had to do now was get the courage to do it.

…

Deanna rang the chime on Commander Riker's door.

"Hey there, Counselor," he said as the doors opened, emphasizing her position. "I thought you'd be wiped out, first day back. Come in," he said as she stood in the doorway. He turned around and started towards his couch. But she didn't move. He looked back over his shoulder. "Deanna," he said cautiously.

Deanna looked into Will's crystal blue eyes. They held such sincerity. _Please, don't leave me,_ Deanna pleaded, knowing he would not hear her.

He tilted his head to the side. "Do you want to come in?" he asked her.

Deanna tried to swallow her fears, and she nodded. She stepped inside cautiously, but she tried to smile back at him. She just needed a little longer to gather her courage. "So what are you up to?" She asked, stalling for time as she stood looking nervously around the room.

"I was reading the briefing for our new mission," Will said showing her the PADD on his desk. "How about you? How was your first day back?"

Deanna paused before she spoke, choosing her words carefully. "Interesting," she finally answered. But she wasn't ready to elaborate. "So what _is _our new mission?" Deanna asked him. "I'm not accustomed to being out of the loop."

"We are on our way to patrol the Tremora region. The federation just finished negotiating a pretty aggressive trade agreement with the Torsians, and it would appear many of the Torsian traders are less than happy with the terms."

"Already?" Deanna asked curiously.

"Apparently."

"But the Torsians have always been knownas non aggressive, perhaps to a fault. Why is the federation sending its flag ship to settle a non existent squabble with a non aggressive ally?"

Will opened a file on the PADD and handed it to her. "Well, they have become the most heavily armed non aggressive ally I have ever seen," he said as she scanned over the report.

"Most of these weapons are federation in origin," Deanna said surprised. "I'm not sure I understand."

"I'm not sure any of us understand," he said taking the PADD from her and placing it back on his desk.

"So off we go," Deanna concluded.

"That's the general gist of it, yes."

Without the PADD in her hand, Deanna began to toy with items on his desk, flitting from one to the next in a restless manner.

Will watched her for a moment. She seemed to be increasingly nervous. "Deanna," he said curiously.

"Hmm?"

"You're fidgeting."

Deanna looked down at her hands and sighed as she replaced a plaque to its place on Will's desk.

"Everything okay?" he asked her.

_No, _she thought simply. Time was up. She needed to say what she had come to say. "Can we talk?" she asked. The volume of her voice seemed unwilling to cooperate, as her words came out in no more than a whisper.

Will nodded and began leading her over to the couch. "If this is about last night, I am sorry. I really thought it would be easier if you didn't have to worry about it all day. I knew you were nervous about eating in Ten forward, and you were embarrassed about facing Worf and Data and Geordi. But it just seemed to me that it would be better to get it over with, rather than let anything fester. I should have told you. I know it was a really hard night for you, and I'm sorry. But I thought you handled it so well. You did great."

Deanna listened to Will as he rambled on, and if he continued she knew she would loose her nerve.

"I threw up," she blurted out, and it made Will stop in his tracks. "Last night when I left the table, I went into the bathroom and I threw up everything I had eaten. I was so nervous, and I just…I just couldn't…" She looked over at him, where he sat next to her on the couch. He looked sad, though the emotions coming off him were more irritation and frustration.

"You didn't look so good," he told her quietly.

"Thanks a lot," she said, her one last stab at being jovial.

"Is that what you came to tell me?" he asked. He didn't know why but he doubted that was it. Had he misread her? Had this been going on the whole time?

"No," she said softly. "I came to tell you why."

Will sighed heavily and moved so he faced her. He tried to remain neutral, to listen to her, but he was afraid he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "Is this what you've been doing all along? Eating when I nag you and then vomiting?" he asked. Then he paused. He could hear the anger and frustration in his own voice and knew she could sense it as she shied away from him slightly.

"You can't do that, Deanna. That's not healthy. You need to talk to Lieutenant Soto about this. Now, you should do it right now."

"I already have," she tried to continue. "When I came out of the bathroom last night, she was waiting for me. We met this morning and we talked about it all."

Will sighed with relief. "Good. Good. Okay, so you've talked to her about it. Okay," he said placing his hands firmly on his knees and preparing to stand up. "So it's done. I should have said something earlier-"

"Will, please," she interrupted him. He could see her fighting against the tears welling up in her eyes, and he sat back down. "This is so hard for me. Please, I'll never get through it if you keep cutting in."

Will repositioned himself on the sofa to face her again. He didn't know that he wanted to hear what she was about to say, but she apparently needed him to. "Okay, I'm sorry."

For a moment, they gazed into each other's eyes, searching for some sort of reassurance. The silence was deafening, as he waited for her to speak. But Deanna had lost her momentum and trying to start again was proving to be a challenge.

"When I was on the planet, when I woke up, I was in the caverns where the ambassador had been held. They kept me there for the first few days."

Will felt waves of guilt crash over him. He had left her there. Until this moment Deanna had spoken about her time there in generalities. She had never given him any sort of timeline or spoken of any specific event. He wanted to be there for her, but a part of him dreaded knowing.

"They beat me and flogged me with a whip when I wouldn't tell them who I was, and…and they raped me."

Will flinched again. She hadn't used that word hardly at all. It was so vivid. There was no way around it, no nicer, more tolerable way to look at the situation. He couldn't stop the pictures in his head and they made him want to scream.

"Sometimes it was just a guard or two that were left with me. Other times it was groups of them." She shook her head. "Some of it, I don't think I remember very clearly. It was dark all the time. The only way I could tell day from night was by how many men were in the caverns with me. They never gave me anything to eat or drink. I was dizzy and tired. After each attack I would bleed for hours. I knew I was loosing too much blood, and that if I didn't get food or water, I would never be strong enough to get out of there. But there was nothing. Nothing but darkness." She paused and took a few deep breaths, but did not look up at Will, she couldn't bear to continue if she did.

"Then after a few days, one of the leaders of the group told some of the men to take me to the surface and to go to a neighboring village. He had spoken to a man who was interested in buying me. So I was brought to the surface. It was hot on the planet and dusty. They put a shroud over me like all the women wear. All that showed were my eyes. And they tied me to this animal, and we walked. It seemed like all day we walked. I was blacking out some of the time, but when I did, the animal would just drag me along. I don't remember reaching the village. I do remember hearing voices I didn't recognize, and people poking at me and pulling off the shroud to look at me. And then the next thing I remember, it was dark. It was nighttime. The three men that traveled with me were cooking food by a fire. The man in the village had already bought and paid for me. But I was still with them."

"It is their custom to show the seller honor by paying for your goods and then returning for them the next day," Will interrupted.

Deanna only nodded. Up to this point her voice had been even and steady as she relayed the events of those few days with as little emotion as possible. But her voice broke as she began again.

"There were only three of them. I thought maybe I had a chance of getting away. But I was so weak. I heard them talking, saying that they couldn't hurt me. That they couldn't take what already belonged to this other man. I knew I was safe for that night. But one of the men was fascinated by me, and his friend goadedhim on. He told him that they couldn't rape me, but if I gave myself willingly that was a different matter." She felt the first tear slide down her cheek, but she did not let go of her tight hold around herself to wipe it away. It tumbled off her chin and onto her uniform.

"They started discussing how long it had been since I ate, and if they offered food in exchange, what I would be willing to do to get it."

She saw out of the corner of her eye, Will's head starting to shake, no. Anger was pouring from him, but who it was directed at was unclear. Before she lost her nerve again, she plowed on. "I thought, if I ate and drank, I might be able to fight them off. I might be able to escape. They were talking about the man who they had sold me to and told me that he was cruel. I knew if I was going to get away, that this was my last chance. He told me that if I did what they wanted, I could eat and drink as much as I wanted. I was so tired," her voice broke again and more tears spilt down her cheeks. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, she was sure everyone on the deck could hear it.

"And I felt so dirty and used. I just didn't know what difference it would make. And if I got away from them, then it would be worth it. They told me to take off my clothes, and I did. But when they saw the blood on my thighs, they worried that if they had intercourse with me, that Mortain would know. They thought he would kill them. So they decided that it would be better to do something that wouldn't leave a mark or a trace."

She glanced up and saw Will's eyes closed tightly. He was biting hard into his lower lip. She had to go on. She had gone this far. She could finish. She focused on the table in front of the couch and continued. "They wanted me to perform oral sex. And I did. They never forced me, never touched me, for the most part. The first man was almost indifferent. But the second one, he was more brutal. When he ejaculated, he made sure I swallowed all of it, wouldn't let me drink anything until he was sure."

"The third was quick, easily excitable," she said shaking her head. "But again his friend wouldn't let me go on until I swallowed. I hadn't had anything to drink in at least three days. I remember how it burnt my throat. And then it was over. They offered me water and food and I ate all I could. But I couldn't fight back my feelings about what I had done. I traded myself for food, and it made me sick.

They watched me as I ate. I could sense their erotic thoughts about me, like I was some sort of a show. After all that, I couldn't even keep it down. After an hour or so, I vomited it all up and they yelled at me for wasting their food, though the youngest one still let me have some more water, and they tied me back up. The next morning they brought me into the village where you found me. They were right. Mortain was crueler than any before him. I think he would have been just as happy to kill me. I'm sure in another few days he would have."

She looked up at Will and was surprised to see that he was, again, watching her. His blue eyes on fire with rage. But she couldn't stop.

"Whenever I eat, whenever I see food…I go back to that night. I go back to that feeling. That night at the poker game when you left…here I was with these three men, and I know that none of them would ever hurt me, but I was back there, that night, by the fire, and I couldn't stop it. Geordi asked me if I wanted a piece of cake and then he said something about that he knew that I liked it or something…I just lost it. I ran. And when Amy asked me what I was most afraid of, if someone knew what I'd done, I realized it was that you would look at me differently. That you'd think I was a whore. I never thought I would do something like that. I have always thought that intimacy…that it meant…"

"I know," he told her softly.

"But I did it. I didn't even have to think about it. I wanted the food, and I did what they wanted me to do. I didn't even cry," she said softly, as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

They sat in silence for a long time. Will didn't want to interrupt her if she had more to say, and he wasn't sure what he would say if it were his turn. He couldn't bear to see the pictures that kept racing through his mind of Deanna kneeling in front of these faceless barbarians, how it had humiliated her, how it had changed her.

"I'll go now," Deanna said suddenly standing up. "I'm sorry." She stepped away from the couch towards the door, but before she could take another step, she felt Will's arms close around her.

He didn't know if it was the right thing to do, whether it would frighten her. All he knew was that he couldn't let her walk away from him. He couldn't let her leave like that.

In one quick motion she spun around in his arms to face him and buried her head into his chest. Her crying came in sobs that wracked her whole body, and he held on to her even tighter. He felt tears began to slip down his own face, but he didn't dare let her go enough to wipe them away. They fell into her hair, wetting the top of her head, as they clung to one another.

"I'm so sorry," she said as her crying began to subside.

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't understand."

Deanna nodded, not lifting her head form his chest where the sound of his pounding heart soothed her.

"Why would you be sorry?" he asked her.

"I lied to you. I went against everything I have ever told you that sex means to me."

"Deanna," he said gently kissing the top of her head. "You didn't do anything wrong. You did what you needed to survive. It doesn't mean anything about you. It doesn't make you a whore. It makes you the victim of terrible men who manipulated you to satisfy their own desires."

"You're angry," she said softly, pulling back from his fierce embrace slightly.

Will also pulled away, looking away from her. He wished just once that he could hide things as well from her as she apparently could from him. "Damn right I'm angry," he told her.

Immediately she flinched, as if he would hit her. It was something that he had only seen her do once before, when he raised his voice in sickbay.

"I'm angry at them, Deanna, not you. I am angry about what they did to you. I'm angry that they get to go on with their lives like nothing happened and we are here all these weeks later just trying to figure out how to get through the day. I hate them, Imzadi, not you. Never you."

"But you are hurt."

Will looked at Deanna as she stood before him, her eyes down, smaller somehow than she really was. "I'm hurt that you didn't trust me, that you thought that I wouldn't understand, that I would judge you. I'm hurt that you lied to me."

"I do trust you," she started.

"Not enough," he interrupted. "That's what keeps me up at night. We'll fight our own demons, Deanna. Don't make me one of them. Wherever you are, whatever you do…I am on your side. Always."

"I was ashamed. I didn't want that picture in your head."

Will pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arms back around her. "So what made you come here, tell me all this?"

"I was walking through the woods and decided to take the road less traveled."

Will paused, puzzled by her words. "Robert Frost?"

Deanna nodded. "What I've been doing, it's not enough. I have to face my fears, not run away from them. I made a list."

"Of your fears?"

Deanna nodded against his shoulder, where her head lay cradled.

"Can I see it?"

She shook her head, no.

"Well how's it going so far?" he asked curiously.

"This was number one."

"Starting off with the little things, huh?"

"You are a bastard," she said crossly, though she made no attempt to move away from him.

His voice was soft, and filled with sincerity as he whispered against her ear. "How _is _it going so far?"

Deanna pulled herself even tighter into his arms, the place she felt safest in the universe.

"So far so good," she replied as she hid her face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

"Is this why you don't want to go home?" he asked her after a few minutes of silence.

"Because you thought your mother would know what happened and that she would judge you?"

"I don't want her picturing it any more than I want you doing it. Can't I just spare her that much?"

"You'll have to go home eventually, Dea. You can't stay out here forever hiding from her. If you tried, she'd just track you down and find you out here."

"I know. But it doesn't have to be right now. I just need more time."

Will sat back down on the couch, and Deanna clung to him, amazed that he was still willing to hold her and be with her.

"Can we just stay like this for a while?" she asked him.

"All night if you want to," he told her.

"No. I need to go home tonight. I need to turn out my lights."

Will looked at her with a look of complete puzzlement.

"Number two on the list," she explained and then snuggled back into his embrace.


	15. Rescue 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Sorry for the long delays. These next few will be in rapid succession. Then who knows, you might have to wait again. I am loving the feedback. It makes the story so much better and the encouragement does me a world of good. It absolutely amazes me that this many people are reading this. Thank you all!

**Chapter 15**

Deanna awoke the next morning feeling like a weight had been lifted from her. She almost couldn't believe how unphased Will seemed by what she had told him. The idea of him holding her, and not judging her in any way had never actually occurred to her, but that seemed to be what had happened. He had held her tight and they had talked late into the night. She had cried a bit more, and laughed a bit, and when she couldn't seem to keep her eyes open any longer, he walked her home.

She had changed out of her uniform, turned out her lights and slipped into bed and, before she could even think about it, she was asleep. She had slept through the night in the darkness, and she couldn't remember a single dream, frightening or otherwise. Somehow, she seemed so normal, as if nothing unusual was happening in her life.

It had been a great feeling, though she found it was fleeting. The fear crept back in every so often, and when it did, she would make a note of what it was that frightened her and check to make sure it was on the list. She had rewritten the list several times, to put it in an order that was more logical. And every morning she looked at it, adjusted the order of some things, added others, and picked which one she would conquer that day.

On the first day she contacted her mother, apologized for being so distant and made a plan to join her on shore leave in a few months. It would give them both the time they needed, and would hopefully keep Lwaxana Troi from chasing after her daughter.

It seemed to have gone well enough, so Deanna selected something else from the list, and went on a walk around the ship, alone. It was easy to walk with someone, like Will or Beverly. Everyone allowed them some privacy. But if she were alone, there would be no buffer, just like when Will had left the poker game. She would have to face people alone. She strolled through the arboretum, along the decks of the ship to the gym where she worked out and then made her way slowly back to Ten forward.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she slipped into a seat at the bar. People were scattered around the room and, though her back was to them, she could feel their emotions as if she had been turned to face them. She had no companion to focus her thoughts on, no way to filter the emotions of the other occupants of the room away from her. And she didn't really want to. This was her fear. Being alone, out in the open with no emotional protections. But it didn't make it any easier.

"Well this is a sight I haven't seen for a while," Guinan said as she approached her with a gentle smile. "Welcome Counselor."

"Thank you Guinan. How are you?" Deanna hoped that the woman could not sense her deep concern about being there amongst everyone, on her own, but the way Guinan tilted her head to the side and kept her steady gaze lead Deanna to believe that the bartender could read her better than she would like.

"How are _you_, is the question. You haven't been around much in the last few weeks."

Deanna paused to consider the question. "I am doing much better now. Thank you."

"I hear you have returned to duty, at least partial duty."

Deanna nodded. "Yesterday, yes."

"And how did it go?"

Deanna shrugged. "It was a beginning," she said trying to keep her tone neutral. "It had its rough spots, but all in all…I survived it."

"Good. In that case, I will be happy to give you your patient load back," Guinan, said with a sigh as she put a glass of juice in front of her.

Deanna looked back at her a bit shocked. "What do you mean?"

"Lieutenant Soto was only seeing a few patients, and, well, let's just say a lot of people who would have usually talked to you found that they were in need of a listening ear."

Deanna nodded with a chuckle. "Anyone in particular that I should know about?"

"No, not really. I'm sure everyone will get back into the groove of things in time. Drink your juice."

"I didn't ask for juice," Deanna told her.

Guinan just smiled at her. "It's easier when you have something in your hand," and with a nod of her head she turned and walked away.

Deanna sat and sipped at her juice as she absorbed the room around her. She wondered if people had forgotten she was empathic, as they seemed far more comfortable looking at her curiously when her back was turned. Part of this was her own doing, she reminded herself. She had made herself so scarcely seen over the last few weeks that she was something of an oddity. In time her presence would loose its fascination. So she sat, firmly in her chair and let the curious looks continue.

Suddenly a strong curiosity burst into her mind, stronger than the others in the room combined. She almost cowered until she recognized the familiar sensation of Will's mind. With a sigh, she turned to the door to face him.

"Hi" she mouthed with a small wave in his direction.

Will walked to her and sat on the stool beside her. "Hi," he answered. "I was just going to grab some lunch and thought I'd see how item number two went, but when I asked the computer where you were, I almost ordered a full diagnostic of the computer system. I thought we were having a major glitch."

"Because I was in Ten forward?" Deanna asked.

Will only shrugged. "Care to join me?" he asked cautiously. "Only if you're comfortable."

Deanna smiled back at him. He had such a gentle concern. It wasn't a side of him that she had seen often. But in the last few weeks, it was overpowering.

"Engineering to Commander Riker," Geordi's voice broke through the silence.

Will rolled his eyes before tapping his comm. badge. "Riker here."

"Commander, I need you to take a look at something down here."

"On my way," Will replied before tapping his badge again and looking back at the woman sitting next to him.

"No lunch for you," Deanna told him.

"Sometimes, I just can't catch a break," he said standing to leave. "You are okay, aren't you?"

"Just because I'm in Ten forward?" Deanna asked. He nodded. "It's number 4."

"Well, number 4 already? You _have_ been a busy girl this morning," he told her, leaning toward her and quickly kissing her cheek. "I'll see you later."

As Will walked out of the room, Guinan walked back towards where Deanna sat.

"Is he smothering you yet?" Guinan asked her quietly.

"Commander Riker?" Deanna asked glancing back to where he had exited. "No, not really."

"But sometimes," Guinan added.

"I suppose, occasionally. I don't know. I think it's kind of sweet."

Guinan only shrugged. "Well it didn't look so sweet the other night. I was a little afraid they were going to come to blows."

Deanna looked back surprised. "Who?"

"Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf."

"What?" Deanna asked, shocked.

"You were having dinner and then you stepped out. All I know was when I caught wind of it they were standing nose to nose having a stand off of sorts."

Deanna thought back to the other night, and how it had been Worf who had come to check on her, not Will. She nodded as if she was making sense of it.

"Still, taking out his commanding officer would be preferable to the sulking version of our Klingon friend that I have been seeing lately."

"Sulking?" Deanna asked. "I don't know about that."

"Sitting at the back table, staring out at the stars, shorter even than usual if anyone tried to approach. Looked a lot like sulking to me."

Deanna sighed as she thought about the way Worf had been unable to look her in the eye. "Klingons have a different view of being captured than most of us. I think he's had some trouble deciding what to make of it all."

Guinan gave a short laugh. "I'm sorry Deanna. I'm no ship's counselor, but I know the face of a man feeling guilty when I see it."

"Guilty?" Deanna thought about this. It wasn't something that had ever occurred to her, and for the first time she realized that Will wasn't the only one who had left her behind on Galia Prime. Worf had been there too. With one gulp, Deanna finished her juice and looked back at Guinan. "Thank you, Guinan," she said sincerely.

"My pleasure. You should come back more often," she said with a quick glance around the room at the occupants who were trying to seem less curious than Deanna knew they were.

"You're right. I should." Deanna stood up and walked out of the room, lost in thought. She had a patient to see in a little over an hour, and still needed to go home and change clothes. But as she walked through the corridors, it wasn't her patient that was occupying her thoughts. It was her Klingon friend.

Had she judged him so harshly? Hadn't she sensed how he felt... Disgusted, ashamed? Why was it that she hadn't sensed any hostility the other night between the two men, if they had some sort of altercation? In fact, she couldn't remember sensing much of anything that night in Ten forward. And the more she thought about it, she realized there were gaping holes in her empathic memory.

Had she really been that self-absorbed, that she had shut out the emotions that surrounded her? She hadn't realized. Certainly she hadn't intended to do it. She had been so certain that she had sensed shame from the proud man, but it had never crossed her mind that the shame had not been directed at her, for what she had allowed to happen to her. Was it possible that he was ashamed of what he had done? He also had left her behind. He also didn't want her on the away team in the first place. Deanna shook her head at herself as she walked into her quarters. Everything seemed to be making more sense today, more sense than it had made in weeks.

….

"And this is my paper on the Persian turtles." Alexander told Deanna as he showed her his recent school assignments.

"That looks fantastic," Deanna praised him. "Now, you had better hurry off to bed before I get in trouble with your father for letting you stay up so late. You have school in the morning."

Alexander obediently began to gather up the assignments as Deanna watched. She had agreed to stay with Alexander while Worf was away from the ship overnight, but he would be back in a few hours, and Deanna wanted to make sure Alexander was tucked in snuggly before his father walked in. Worf had been so hesitant to ask her, but Deanna was grateful for the opportunity. She had felt such a surge of emotion for Worf, like she owed him an apology, but she didn't know how to begin telling him that she was sorry for judging him for something that he didn't know he had done. It seemed like it would only make it worse.

"Here," she held out her hand for the papers. "You go get changed, and I'll put these away," Deanna told him. She took them from him and he dashed off. As she walked to the desk she looked around the room. On the desk sat a holo disk that she hadn't seen before. This was Worf's desk, and she didn't want to intrude, but she was curious what had been added to the family collection since she and Worf had parted.

"Turn it on," Alexander encouraged her as he emerged from his bedroom.

That was all the encouragement that she needed. She pressed the button and into the air appeared a photograph of Deanna and Alexander, playing in the sand on a Betazed beach. She felt a gasp escape her lips, and quickly looked over at her young companion. "Where did this come from?" she asked, hoping that she sounded casual.

"Father put it there while you were gone on that planet. He left it on for days, but now he just turns it on at night when he thinks I'm not looking," Alexander told her with all the innocence of a child.

Deanna felt tears begin to sting her eyes and she blinked them away. "I like this picture," Deanna told him honestly.

"Me too," he said climbing up into her lap.

"Do you want me to tuck you in?" Deanna asked, but the little boy just rolled his eyes. "Okay," she said. He was not a baby anymore, he had told her that the night before.

He hugged her quickly. "Good night," he told her.

"Good night little one," Deanna said kissing his head. "I'll see you tomorrow," she told him as he walked back into his room and the door closed behind him. Once she was alone she found herself mesmerized by the photo that shimmered on the desk, as she watched her smiling, easygoing self.

Worf had brought this out while she was lost. Her heart ached for how hard she had been on him.

She looked away from the photograph and around the room where she now sat alone. She was looking forward to sleeping in her own quarters tonight. She had stayed in Worf's bed the night before while she was watching Alexander, and while she certainly had slept in Worf's bed before, everything about it had seemed foreign and frightening. It was fine while Alexander was there with her, but now she sat alone again. The room seemed darker somehow, though she knew the lighting hadn't changed. And the objects on the walls and even the artwork seemed more menacing.

Her eyes were pulled back to the light from the photo in front of her. She could remember the carefree feeling she had that day, playing with her mother and Alexander. Everything had been so peaceful. There was no dark ache in her soul, no fear she had to fight away at every turn. She wished she had known then what would happen less than a year later. She would have savored those moments more if she had known how her life was going to change forever.

…

Deanna jumped as the doors opened. She had been lost in her own thoughts and had not sensed him coming. She still sat at his desk with the holo photo gleaming in front of her. She quickly stood and fumbled to turn off the holopad.

Worf stood in his doorway watching her. His face revealed nothing, and his emotions were a jumble. If he had been empathic, the woman in front of him would have been easy to read. She reeked of guilt.

"Worf! Welcome home," she offered.

"Thank you Counselor. I hope Alexander wasn't any trouble." Worf walked in and placed his bag in the corner before turning back to her.

"No, of course not. He went to bed a little while ago. They brought home a bunch of graded assignment today, so I just left them on your desk." She gestured back to where she had been sitting a little sheepishly.

"I appreciate your willingness to stay with him. It was very helpful," Worf told her.

The two stood awkwardly in the room. Deanna tried to find something to say, but she wasn't sure what it was that she wanted to express. She was relieved to realize that for the first time since her return she did not feel frightened or uncomfortable around him. She wasn't afraid of being alone with him, even in his quarters where swords hung on the walls around her.

"Deanna," he began and she couldn't help but break in. His tone seemed so harsh.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy. Alexander told me to turn it on and then I just sort of got lost in my own thoughts."

He took a step towards her and was pleased that she did not back away. "If I had not intended you to see it, I would have put it away," he said quietly.

The two stood looking at each other in silence. Deanna didn't know what to make of what she felt from him.

"I do not know how you did it," he finally growled, his voice low.

"Did what?" Deanna asked.

"You and Commander Riker. You were always friends, even after…" he let the sentence drift off, unfinished. "I have never had a relationship that required…" but he didn't have the words to finish that sentence either.

It didn't matter. Deanna finally understood the jumble of emotions coming from him. "We weren't always friends," she told him. "We had to work at it. That first year or so after we came aboard, it was awkward."

"Like this?" Worf asked, sounding almost hopeful.

Deanna shrugged slightly. "A little. He's a different man than you are, Worf. It was different. But I know that I still care about you very much, and that I care very much for Alexander too. I value our friendship. I hope I never loose that."

"Nor do I," he said sitting down on the couch on the opposite wall. He looked back at her, his eyes dark with a question he was not yet willing to ask.

Deanna decided to wait, and came over and sat next to him.

"Do you love him?" he finally asked, though he looked away from her.

"Commander Riker?" Deanna asked. It had not been the question she had been bracing herself for.

"He loves you," he told her. "You didn't see how he was... When he came back without you…I've never seen him like that."

"Will and I, we…" she tried to explain, but faulted. "Well, it's always been so complicated."

"Forgive me, but it does not seem that complicated." Worf looked down at her for a moment. "I have been pleased this past week. You seem to be more like yourself. More content."

"Thank you," Deanna told him.

"I did not like to see how you were hurting before, and yet every time I was around you, I only seemed to make it worse. I did not know how to be the friend we had agreed to be."

"Worf," she told him, reaching out and touching his arm. "I know. I'm sorry too."

Worf nodded, grateful that she could fill in the gaps from the words he could not seem to express.

Deanna leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. It was as close as they had been since they had ended their relationship. "Good night Worf," she told him and then stood up and grabbed her own bag that waited by the door.

"Goodnight Deanna," he replied and Deanna walked out into the corridor.

Slowly Worf walked back to his desk and activated the picture that Deanna had been looking at. He left it on as he walked to his room and noticed the slight smell of flowers that still lingered on his pillow.


	16. Rescue 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Here is the next one, as promised. But after this there will be a bit of a break again. The family is taking a vacation. I might get some writing done, I might not. But I won't make any promises. Hope you enjoy.:)

**Chapter 16**

Deanna sat at the bar in Ten forward, nervously waiting for Beverly to finish her shift. They were supposed to be going to get massages. Beverly said it was her rewardfor making it through her first week back. In her continued effort to conquer her fears, she was making it a point to come into Ten forward almost every day, though if she was alone, she usually just sipped on whatever drink the bartender handed her. She didn't like the idea of eating alone in public, and the more she thought about it, she realized she didn't really like to do that before all of this, so she didn't see any reason to try to change now.

Deanna had eased her way up to seeing eight patients now, though none of them were dealing with anything too emergent or delicate. Her most critical case was Lieutenant Lowery, who seemed to be suffering from post partum depression after giving birth to her son six months ago. Her transition back to duty had been difficult and Deanna could sympathize. They had agreed that she would see Deanna three times a week, far more than any of the other patients Deanna had taken on. When she listened to Lieutenant Lowery describe the anxiety of returning to duty, Deanna had to swallow hard against her own nerves. While she would never tell her patient, the woman was describing exactly how she felt herself whenever she thought of walking onto the main bridge.

She felt the man, before she saw him. He was unfamiliar, and not as comfortable with his surroundings as the others that were milling about the room. He was tall and slender, with dusty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She didn't recognize him, and could tell by his facial features that he was not human, not entirely at least. But his emotions were open and easy to read. He came up to the bar and sat in a seat near Deanna, leaving an opening between them. Deanna realized that she sighed with relief.

"Long day?" he asked.

His question surprised her. She looked over at him, trying to be casual. She was, after all, here to conquer her fears. "No, not really," she said simply, trying not to encourage the conversation.

"Well, I have. Long travels can really take a lot out of you," he told her, turning his attention back to the bar.

Guinan appeared almost silently. "What can I get for you?" she asked the man.

"Hmm," he sighed looking around the room. "What are you having?" he asked, turning his attention back to Deanna.

"A hot chocolate," she answered and turned her head away, to look straight ahead.

"And is it good?" he asked. He was apparently missing her signals that she was not wanting to have a conversation.

"Yes." Perhaps brevity would give him the clue.

He turned back to Guinan. "I'd love to try one," he said and Guinan nodded. He swiveled in his seat so he could face her, and again, Deanna was immensely grateful for the space that the barstool between them was creating.

"I'm Damon Paule," he said offering his hand.

Deanna looked over at him, then forward to see if perhaps Guinan could interrupt. However, the bartender was not heading in their direction. It wasn't that she was frightened of him, but she did feel awkward. No one in the crew had dared approach her like this since she'd returned from the planet. Deanna glanced back at the stranger again and stared at his extended hand.

"Deanna Troi," she said shaking it quickly and returning to face forward.

"I just came aboard," he began. Deanna closed her eyes for a minute, as if she could wish him away. "I will be assisting the senior staff with addressing the Torsian traders."

Deanna nodded vaguely with a less than half hearted smile. Where was Beverly? She glanced around the room for a chronometer and realized that her friend would not even be off duty for another twenty minutes.

"Are you also a guest on board?" he asked her.

Deanna looked back at him, and then down at herself. She had seen one patient earlier in the day, and then changed out of her uniform into black exercise pants and form fitting top. She had worked out in the gym and then come here. As she had walked, she'd pulled her hair out of the ponytail where it had been, to let it move freely. Now it hung loosely over her shoulders. She realized that she didn't necessarily look like a member of the crew.

"No," she told him. "I'm stationed here."

"You're a Star Fleet officer?" he asked sounding surprised.

"Does that shock you?" she asked, finally turning to face him.

"I was raised on Torsia. Forgive me, but beautiful women do not usually serve in our armed forces."

Deanna felt the first tinge of discomfort, both with what he had said, and the way he was watching her. His emotions were still mostly neutral and nothing but friendly, so Deanna took a deep breath to calm her nerves and continued. "I wasn't aware that Torsia had a significant armed force."

"Ah, yes. Passive to a fault," he said nodding with a smile as Guinan put a mug of hot chocolate down in front of him. "Thank you," he told her and took a sip. "Very sweet," he said putting the mug back down on the bar with a slight pucker to his lips. He was being polite, but his emotions were more clear.

"You don't like it," Deanna told him.

"No, no. It's not what I was expecting…"

"And you don't like it."

He looked up at her as she arched an eyebrow.

"You're not human," he said slowly. "I thought this was a ship of humans."

"There are forty six species stationed aboard the Enterprise," Deanna told him primly.

"I had no idea," he replied and he was genuinely surprised. "And you just happen to be from one of those forty six worlds that is telepathic, I take it. You seem to have the advantage."

"I'm empathic, actually."

"So you can't tell me what I'm thinking, say…right now?"

Deanna rolled her eyes. "You haven't spent much time around telepaths," she answered him. She wasn't much in the mood for parlor tricks.

But his eyes flew wide. "That's incredible!" he told her. "That was it, exactly!"

Deanna burst out in a slightly annoyed chuckle.

"So tell me, Deanna Troi, what is your position aboard this giant ship? I'll have to remember to tell the senior staff how impressive you are when I next meet with them."

Deanna could tell that he was trying to impress her and it made her smirk. "I am Commander Deanna Troi, ships counselor, and I don't think that my colleagues on the senior staff will be all that impressed with you meeting me."

Damon Paule leaned back from her, honestly surprised again. "You're a member of the senior staff," he said quietly.

Deanna raised her eyebrows as if to tell him that he was very astute. "Yes, that particular line may have worked better with some of the other women in the room," she told him glancing around the room at the other occupants.

"Apparently" he admitted. "You were not in the meeting earlier."

"Again, impressively astute," she told him without offering further explanation for her absence.

"Well, in that case, Counselor. May I ask you a question?"

Deanna looked back, surprised by his suddenly serious tone. "Please."

"When Captain Picard looks at you during one of these meetings with his arms folded and his eyebrows raised like this," he made a vain attempt to imitate the captain's facial expression. "Does that mean he thinks you are a completeimbecile, or is it just his way of telling you your turn to talk is over?"

Deanna began to chuckle again as their conversation continued. He was very easy going, and Deanna realized after a few minutes that this was the first stranger that she had spoken to in months. She smiled to herself as she realized how well she was doing. She couldn't have done this a week ago, and definitely not in Ten forward.

Certainly she was aware that he was flirting with her, but he was kind and kept his distance. She felt no threat or intimidation from him. She could sense his attraction to her. Unlike Commander Riker, he was making no attempt to hide it. And the thought that he had no idea that anything out of the ordinary had happened to her was enticing in some way. He wasn't being overly cautious. He had no reason to be. And he wasn't ashamed of his physical attraction to her and that gave her more confidence than she had felt in a long time.

They laughed and talked for several more minutes before Beverly Crusher came into the room and leaned on the bar stool between them.

"Mr. Paule, you seem to have found your way around the ship," Beverly said.

"Yes, hello Doctor. I was just visiting with your colleague."

"I can see that," Beverly said. There was a testy mothering tone to her voice, and it left little doubt that she was not pleased.

"Sorry I'm late," she said turning to Deanna. "Shall we go?"

"Yes," Deanna said, rising from her stool.

"Doctor, it was a pleasure seeing you again," Damon said to her and then he leaned in and took Deanna's hand.

She felt herself jump at his touch. Adrenaline began to pump through her veins as she fought the panic that suddenly flared inside her.

"I hope to have the opportunity to run into you again soon, Deanna Troi," he said kissing the back of her hand lightly.

Deanna felt her cheeks flush like she hadn't felt since she was a young girl. She pulled her hand back slowly and tried to smile through her sudden nervousness.

"Mr. Paule," Deanna said with a nod and she and Beverly walked out of the lounge.

"Are you alright?" Beverly asked cautiously as they walked down the corridor.

Deanna nodded slightly. "Yes," she said, slightly surprised that she meant it. "I'm fine."

Beverly raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"I'm fine, Beverly. He's harmless."

Beverly's expression remained unchanged.

"He was just talking to me," Deanna said defensively. She could feel herself getting angry with her overly protective friend.

"He was coming on to you," Beverly finally told her.

"It was nothing," Deanna said firmly as she turned and continued down the corridor.

"Deanna," Beverly called following after her.

"Am I not allowed to talk to people?" Deanna asked angrily. She knew she was overreacting, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "At some point, Beverly, someone on this ship is going to have to let me interact with people."

"Hey, okay," Beverly replied angrily. "That's not fair. I want you to do whatever you want. But you don't know that man, and he was sitting at the bar hitting on you, and I was concerned, okay? I don't think that makes me a bad person. I didn't expect to walk in and see some guy all over you."

"He was not all over me. We were just talking."

"He was hitting on you!"

"So what if he was?" Deanna asked firmly.

Beverly got quiet as she watched her. "Deanna, do you really think you're ready for that?"

"For what? Having a conversation with someone in Ten forward- Yes."

Beverly fought the instinct to roll her eyes. "I seriously doubt that is ultimately what he had in mind."

"Beverly, I wasn't having sex with him on the bar. We were talking. That's all. And so what if he does want that? What if I did too? Would that be the most horrible thing in the universe?"

"He doesn't even know you. He has no idea what you've been through."

"I know!" Deanna said eagerly. "It's kind of nice."

Beverly just shook her head at her friend. "Don't bite off more than you can chew here, Deanna. That's a big step."

"I know that. I'm not going home with him," Deanna said trying to soothe her friend.

"Besides," Beverly said cautiously. "What about Will?"

Deanna looked back at Beverly and came to a dead stop in the corridor. "What about Will?" she asked. "Did I miss something about our relationship? Because I'm not so sheltered as to believe that he's been living celibate for the last few months. As I recall, not so long ago he was heading out those same doors with a former nasel supervisor. Or was I the only one who saw that?"

Beverly sighed heavily and shook her head.

"Let's just go and forget about it. I doubt I'll run into our guest anytime soon. Besides he's probably picking up on someone else by now," Deanna said with a glance back down the corridor. With a nod, the two of them went on their way and spent a very pleasant evening getting a massage and their nails painted and manicured.

Deanna stepped into the turbo lift heading back to her quarters after she and Beverly had parted company several hours later.

"Deck Six," Deanna called and the lift set off. After a short time, she felt the lift slowdown and come to a stop. The doors opened and she found Damon Paule staring back at her

"Counselor," he said stepping inside. "When I said I hoped to run into you again, I had no idea it would be so soon."

Deanna stepped back one step to put the same kind of space between them that there had been in Ten forward a few hours before.

"Mr. Paule," Deanna greeted him cautiously.

The two of them stood in an awkward silence. His emotions were less neutral than they had been earlier. His more erotic thoughts were more in the forefront of his mind. She concentrated hard on his emotions, quickly deciding whether to stay or go. Still there was no aggression or intimidation from him. He was simply attracted to her. Finally she weakly smiled at him.

"Are you going back to your quarters?" she asked him and saw the smile play at the corner of his mouth as he nodded.

"What deck are you staying on?" she asked.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked seductively.

Deanna sighed softly. "Because until you tell the computer your destination, we are going to sit here all night."

"Ah," he said and looked as ridiculous as he suddenly felt. "Deck Twelve," he called and the lift continued on.

"Since I know you didn't like a hot chocolate, did you find something that you _did_ enjoy in Ten forward?" Deanna asked mostly to fill the awkward silence. Her stomach was turning with nervous energy. She wasn't sure what was happening here, nor did she know what she wanted to be happening.

He stepped closer to her and raised his hand to her hair. She felt herself start to panic. Beverly was right. She couldn't do this. She wanted him to back away from her.

"I found something I enjoy very much. Maybe you could come back with me and we could enjoy each other for a little longer," he said softly as he ran his hand down her hair to her shoulder.

Deanna stepped to the side of him and put some space between them again. She could feel herself starting to sweat, and her heart was pounding. "I don't think that's such a good idea," Deanna said quietly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rush you, but I didn't really see the point in pretending I don't want you, since you probably already know I do."

"True," Deanna said softly. "But I think I'll pass. No offence."

"You are a complicated woman, Deanna Troi," he said as the doors opened on deck twelve. "Good night," he said with a smile as he stepped out and the doors closed, leaving her alone in the lift.

Deanna rested her head against the back wall and let out a deep sigh as if she had been holding her breath for the last several minutes. Then she took several more steady breaths trying to calm her nerves. It was like her lungs were constricting inside her chest, as images of men she didn't know and didn't want touching her pulled her body to them.

"No," she said out loud shaking her head. She wouldn't let it pull her in again. Instead she tried to picture other lovers, more tender experiences. But even those turned dark in her mind as the memories of the attacks morphed into them. "No!" she shouted into the empty lift.

The lift came to a halt, and the computer's voice broke the silence around her. "State your destination."

Deanna sighed again and then bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Deck Six," she said again, feeling ridiculous. Soon the doors opened and she walked quickly through the corridor and into her quarters.

She didn't stop to think. She locked the door and walked straight to the replicator. "Water, hot with honey and lemon. And a small kitchen knife." As the items materialized, she reached into the drawer and broke off a piece of the, now quite small, root that she had wrapped there. She crushed the root into a paste and slid the paste into the steaming water.

She carried the mug with her as she crossed the room and sat down by her bed. The tea did not work as quickly as it first had. She had time to change into her nightgown, and brush out her hair. Sitting down on her bed, she placed the mug next to the list, then picked up the PADD and groaned to herself. She had missed something. She skimmed to the bottom of the list, and added another item. _Sex,_ she typed quickly below the name of the planet that haunted her dreams. Beverly was right, she wasn't ready. Nowhere near ready. What had she been thinking?

….

Amy Soto walked onto the bridge, her head held high, and was greeted by Commander Riker.

"Counselor, what can I do for you?" he asked as she stepped off the lift.

Amy smiled at him. He seemed so much happier than the man she had met when she first came aboard. It seemed like he had finally let go of some of his guilt. She saw now why he had such a reputation for being easy going amongst the crew. "I was actually needing to speak to the captain, Sir."

"By all means," he said gesturing to the captain's ready room. Amy smiled again as she turned away. It was possible she might miss parts of her work here.

"Enter," the captain called after she pressed the chime, and she nervously stepped inside.

"Lieutenant Soto, what can I do for you?" he asked as she stood inside the door.

"Sir, I have come to tell you that I spoke to Admiral Hayden this morning, and he has requested that I join him on the Gandhi tomorrow. They will be within transporter range, and he would like me to join him on his delegation to the Bajoran outpost on Forkel Two."

The captain raised a curious brow as he stared back at the woman in front of him.

"I informed him, of course, that I would need to speak with you about this, since I am currently serving under your command."

"I see," the captain said quietly.

"Captain, I can understand your hesitation, but I am a crisis counselor. It is my specialty. And this upcoming mission needs a crisis counselor."

"And our crisis?" the captain asked.

"Captain, with all due respect, what crisis? Counselor Troi has returned to duty,"

"Partial duty," the captain reminded her, and she nodded in agreement.

"Yes, but she is taking on more and more responsibility every day. She is socializing with her friends, interacting with the crew…Sir, she seems to have turned the corner."

"So you are saying that in your opinion, she is cured?"

"No Sir. That is not what I am saying at all. There is no cure for what happened to her. But something has changed with her in the last few weeks. She is working very hard on facing her fears, and reclaiming her life. She won't be cured, but she will return to her life and move on. And I think she is doing that. It's not something that can be done in one grand leap, but she is taking the steps she needs to. She's a highly trained psychologist. She knows what is needed, and she's doing it to the best of her ability."

"So you don't believe that you are needed here any longer?" the captain asked her.

"Sir, may I confide something in you about my job?"

Jean Luc Picard nodded with great interest.

"I don't really do anything," Amy told him. "At least not like you do. I am bound by the amount of information that my patients are willing to give me, and Deanna Troi has kept most of her struggle tucked securely within herself. She appreciates me, but still does not trust me, and has only allowed me to intercede to a certain point. We had a breakthrough, Deanna and I, and it has given her the courage to face her future. But now, she has shut me out, Sir. She has decided to face this on her own and who am I to tell her that she's wrong?."

"So your work here is done," the captain concluded.

"In my opinion, yes." Amy admitted. "And that my skills would be put to better use elsewhere."

The captain sat at his desk contemplating what the lieutenant had told him for a moment, before he spoke. "In that case, I wish you safe travels."

"Thank you Sir."

"But, Counselor, if I may ask, before you go…I need a ship's counselor, and I'm not sure how to go about getting mine back."

Amy smiled and chuckled slightly. "Let her take it in natural steps, Sir. She's doing well doing what she is right now."

"But her two weeks will be up soon."

"Don't hold her to deadlines yet, Sir. How do you think she's doing?"

The captain leaned back in his chair, his hands pressed together as he tapped them lightly against his lips. "I think she's doing well enough. Though it would appear that she is still easily flustered under pressure."

"I completely agree. It may take a bit longer before she gets enough confidence back to have her rejoin your bridge crew, but as for the crew, they are being amazingly patient with her. It speaks volumes about their level of respect for her and her work." Amy paused and looked at the captain. "And may I also say that you will still have two wonderful advisors aboard. Commander Riker and Dr. Crusher know her so well, and they are both fiercely watching her. They will have more than enough information to help you in making your decisions about her."

Captain Picard nodded with a slight smile. Then he stood and offered Amy Soto his hand. "It has been a pleasure serving with you, Counselor."

"And with you, Captain. This is a ship and crew I am unlikely to forget."

….

Will Riker sat across the table from Deanna in a crowded Ten forward as they ate dinner together. It was a celebration of sorts. Her two-week trial was up. She had been back to work, seeing patients and doing well. No one had spoken about what would come next, not since Amy Soto had left the ship a few days before. It was a mix of emotions to see her go. She knew it was just a matter of time now until she returned to full duty and she didn't know how she felt about it exactly.

"Should I even ask if you want dessert?" Will asked looking at her curiously.

Deanna glanced around the room. This still wasn't easy for her, but knowing that she didn't bear the burden of it alone made a huge difference.

"Maybe just a hot chocolate," she told him.

"Can I have something?" he asked.

"Whatever you want," she told him, laughing lightly as he stood up and went to the bar to get their orders.

Deanna watched him as he walked away. She had something on her mind, but didn't know how or if to bring it up. Everything was going so well, but every day she picked up her list to decide what to work on that day and the available items were becoming bigger and more complicated. And the two at the bottom of the list kept capturing her attention, Galia Prime and Sex.

That last one nagged at her more by the day. It made her realize that until she somehow dealt with this issue, she was destined to be lonely and celibate. The answer teased at the corner of her mind, but there was one major question that she had no answer to. What was her relationship with this man that was carrying a hot chocolate towards her? What was it he really wanted? And what was he willing to give up to have it? What was _she_ willing to risk?

"Here you go," he said sitting down at the table again. He looked at her far off gaze. "Hey, you okay? It looks like you left me there for a minute."

Deanna focused back on her dinner companion. "Sorry," Deanna told him. "I was thinking about something."

"Something?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's not important," Deanna shrugged it off, then changed the subject. "So, tell me the news. It's surprisingly isolating to miss senior staff meeting. I have to admit I'm looking forward to getting back to it."

"Really?" Will asked chuckling. "Well, let's see. You met Damon Paule. He's been very helpful with the preparations for the mission." He paused and thought for a moment. "Um, the federation added two planets in the Gorama sector as federation protectorates…" he paused for a moment. "That's it."

Deanna looked back at him as he took a bite of the piece of pie in front of him. He was lying. She could sense it as easily as if he wrote it on his own forehead. "No it's not," she said slowly.

Will looked down again, clearly irritated with himself.

"What is it?" she asked. "I can handle it," she tried to reassure him. She could sense his dread.

"The resistance forces on Galia Prime have made an aggressive move to take back the government from the militants," he told her. "The rumor is that the Romulans are smuggling weapons to the Galian militants to help them crush the rebellion in exchange for mining rights on the southern continent. Apparently it is getting pretty bad."

He sat and watched her reaction quietly.

"Good," she finally said, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "If we're really lucky, they'll annihilate themselves and save us the trouble of having to get involved."

Will stared back at her, stunned by the words that she had said, and how casually she had said them. In all the years he had known her, he had never heard something so bitter and hateful come out of her mouth. He was simply speechless.

"What?" she asked coldly as she looked back at his judgmental glare. That was how she felt and she wouldn't let his look scold her into apologizing.

"That is the least 'Deanna Troi' thing that I have ever heard you say," he told her quietly. It made him sad that this experience could have changed her outlook on life so much. "These resisters are fighting for their homes and their families, their way of life," he concluded.

"Resisters, militants…I didn'tsee any difference."

Will still looked at her, his brow furrowed and finally shook his head. "It wasn't always like this on Galia Prime. There are good people down there, fighting a good fight. I wish I could do something to help them."

Deanna sighed heavily. "You sound like you know them," she said, irritation showing in her voice. "I was there for six days. Where were they then, these good people?"

Will thought back to his days on the planet, and his conversation with Gault. He had understood her anger. Will wondered if his apology would help. "They were trying to help you," he told her. "In whatever way they could, without putting their own wives and children at risk. I met two of them. There was one in the town where you were held. He was getting information about you out to others looking for a way to get you out. But Deanna, the price Mortain was asking was too high, more than they could possibly come up with. That was probably intentional, to expose any opposed to the new regime. But this resister, he was doing everything he could. He helped me drug the most dangerous of the men that last night, to try to protect you."

"I never saw him," Deanna said, her voice still terse.

"There was another man," he continued. "I met him shortly after I beamed down. He seemed to know exactly who I was as if he was expecting me. He gave me information I needed to get to you, and an animal to get me there faster. I met his family. His wife was a surgeon before all of this. She was well spoken and compassionate. I wish you could have seen them together, Dea. There was no subservience. She was his equal. They had a son and a daughter and they were good kids, raised to recognize hate when they saw it."

Deanna studied Will as he spoke. "He made quite an impression," she finally said quietly.

"He trusted me, and I trusted him. He just wanted to help me get you out. He asked nothing in return." Will thought back again to that day in the village. "Actually, that's not true. He did ask me to do something, and I haven't done it, until now."

Deanna raised an eyebrow in question. He was uneasy with whatever he was about to tell her and the tension from him was tying her in knots.

"Before I left him, he asked me for something. I remember my heart just sinking. I was sure that he was going to ask that the federation step in and offer assistance to their cause, and as much as I would have liked to, I couldn't guarantee that. It was a civil matter and we were bound to stay out of it. But that wasn't what he wanted."

"What did he want then?" Deanna asked, puzzled by what else Will could have offered him.

"He wanted me to apologize…to you. He wanted you to know that he understood that you would be hurt and angry, but asked me to ask for your forgiveness, that he was sorry for what you had been through, and that he had a hope that someday you might go back and find the planet healed from the hatred that is consuming it. He told me he has a hope of his wife practicing medicine again, instead of being shut away inside her home, that his daughter could walk the streets alone. He had such hope. And when I hear that the fighting has broken out and that the militants may have Romulan weapons being smuggled to them, I worry. I worry for Gault and Batra and their children." He looked back to Deanna and found tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry," he told her and he wiped a tear away that had escaped to her cheek. "but it frightened me a little to hear you talk like that. You are the most compassionate person I have ever known. I know that everything that happened to you won't just go away, but I keep hoping that it won't change who you are either. And I would do anything, anything, to help you get through it and back to your life. You know that right?"

Deanna pulled away and wiped at her eyes.

"Deanna?" he asked. "You know I would do anything for you, don't you?"

"Anything?" Deanna asked before she could stop herself.

Will nodded, solemnly.

But Deanna hesitated.

"What is it, Dea. What do you need? What can I do?"

"It's nothing," she told him. "I was hoping I could ask you for a favor. But it doesn't have to be now. It's not important."

"It's important to me," Will replied.

Now that it was out there in the world, the idea of asking Will to do this sounded completely absurd. "Forget it," she said uncomfortably.

"Deanna," he said, moving so he could look in her eyes. "I meant what I said. Tell me what you need."

She didn't answer him.

"Is it about your list?" he asked.

"Let it go," she said firmly.

"No. You've been doing so well. I don't want you to stop. What do you need? Why's this one different?"

Deanna chuckled bitterly. "Well, for starters, this one's a little hard to take on alone."

"Ask me," Will urged.

"No."

"Ask!"

Exasperated, Deanna blurted out her answer. "I- want- you- to- have- sex- with- me."


	17. Rescue 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: I had a very nice vacation. Thanks for your patience. It should be fast and furious for a while now before another long pause. I hope you are happy with what you find after such a long wait! And since it has been so long I guess I'll recap:

"Deanna," he said, moving so he could look in her eyes. "I meant what I said. Tell me what you need."

She didn't answer him.

"Is it about your list?" he asked.

"Let it go," she said firmly.

"No. You've been doing so well. I don't want you to stop. What do you need? Why's this one different?"

Deanna chuckled bitterly. "Well, for starters, this one's a little hard to take on alone."

"Ask me," Will urged.

"No."

"Ask!"

Exasperated, Deanna blurted out her answer. "I- want- you- to- have- sex- with- me."

**Chapter 17**

Will fell completely silent. For a split second, his eyes flew wide open before he quickly looked away and scanned the room to see if they had been overheard in the crowded room. Grateful that they did not seem to have drawn anyone's attention, he slowly lowered his fork with its uneaten bite back down to his plate. He didn't want to look back at her. He was hoping that, by keeping his eyes on the table, he could somehow protect his whirling emotions.

He needn't have worried. His emotions were coming so fast and were so clouded that Deanna couldn't have categorized them for all she wanted to. She watched him as he sat in silence and tried to filter out some of the emotions coming from him as an old fashioned clock ticked in her mind. _Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock,_ and still he said nothing. There was confusion and anger and guilt. She couldn't make sense of them, and with a sigh, she gave up trying.

_Stupid girl,_ she thought. _You deserve what you get._

Still he said nothing. His silence seemed like a tangible weight as it drowned out the other noise and emotion from the room until it seemed to be crushing her.

"Never mind," she began, desperate to break the stalemate. "I shouldn't have…"

"Deanna, do you know what you're asking me?" he almost begged, finally willing to look her in the eye. "Do you understand what you're asking me to do?"

Deanna sighed, trying to make it not sound as monumental as it had seemed when she had blurted it out. "It's not that big of a deal, Will," she told him as if he were somehow too inhibited.

"It's not like we haven't done it before. I'm not asking you to marry me; I'm not asking to change our relationship at all. In fact, I'm perfectly happy with our relationship exactly the way it is," she lied in an effort to make him more comfortable. "It's just that the other day, when… someone was flirting with me a bit, I realized that I couldn't…

I was terrified. And I don't want to live my life that way. I just need to know that I can, without panicking and making a scene. And you are my closest friend and I trust you. I was hoping that as my friend, you could do me this favor…" she trailed off.

"Favor?" Will asked, a hint of anger in his voice. "A favor?" he asked her leaning closer, so he could lower his voice in the din of the room.

"Deanna, I don't mean to sound prudish about this, but that is not a favor. Getting you a glass of water, that's a favor- Are you thirsty? I'll go get you one right now. But this… My god, Deanna… This?" He could hear the anger in his own voice and wished he could make it go away.

"You said _anything_," Deanna said defensively as she felt the color rising in her cheeks.

"Anything reasonable," Will replied. He watched as Deanna sighed and looked down at the surface of the table. "Deanna…," he said pleadingly. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

"I'm sorry. Forget it. I don't want to be an inconvenience," she said sharply as she began to stand up from the table where they sat together.

Will reached out and grabbed her arm. "Dea, I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel that way, but I was thinking you were going to ask me to sleep on your couch for a while not _sleep with you!_" he whispered fiercely to her. He was relieved when she took her seat again and looked at him hopefully.

"I didn't mean to spring it on you like that," she said quietly.

"But Deanna, I can't," Will told her desperately. "I'm sorry." There was a sense of finality in his voice, that same tone he used when he was in command and had made his decision. The conversation was over.

"Do I at least get to ask why?" she asked before she considered the possibility that she didn't want to hear the answer. What would she do if he told her he just couldn't look at her like that after all that she had been through?

Will looked around the room at the other occupants again. "I…it's not so cut and dry. It's…"

"Engineering to Commander Riker," Geordi's voice cut through the tension between them.

Will closed his eyes for a moment, willing the ship and his job to go away, just for an instant, just to not interrupt this particular moment. On the other hand, he didn't really know how to put his jumbled feelings into words anyway.

"Riker here," he answered as Deanna looked back to the table clearly disappointed by the disruption.

"Commander," Geordi continued. "Data has been able to piece together the communications pathways from the Torsian shuttle debris' last distress call and you aren't gonna believe what we've found. I think you'd better get down here right away."

With a heavy sigh, Will answered him. "On my way, Geordi. Riker out."

He turned his attention back to Deanna and shrugged helplessly. "We've been waiting for these results all day," he told her.

"Sounds important," she agreed quietly, neither willing nor able to look at him.

She could feel his frustration. She didn't know if it was with her, or Geordi, or himself…she tried to make sense of what she was feeling from him, but the direction of his emotions remained a mystery.

"I can't do this right now, Deanna. Not like this. I'm sorry." He stood and without another word, walked away from her, towards the door, leaving her alone at the table.

He glanced back at her as he neared the door. Her eyes were still on the table, her shoulders down. She looked lost sitting there alone and silent in a room filled with happily chatting, laughing people. He could tell by her clenched jaw that she was fighting back tears. He hadn't meant to do that to her. His mind was whirling as he turned away and headed out the door.

Will made his way to Engineering without a single thought to where he was going. His mind was occupied with different concerns. He shouldn't have left Deanna like that, alone and feeling confused with all those people around her.

And why wouldn't she have been confused? He had said that he would do anything to help her get back on track. But had he meant it? Why hadn't he ever considered that this might be an area she would need to address?

_Idiot,_ he thought to himself as he rounded the corner into the main bay of Engineering and his chest jammed hard into someone's shoulder. The pain that shot through his ribs was the first thing to jar him from his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he told the woman as he helped her steady herself. "Are you okay?"

Lieutenant Charlotte Brown straightened her uniform and smiled at him. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't see you there."

Will's stomach sank, but he still responded, hoping he sounded neutral. "No, it was my fault. I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going."

"I'm sure you have a lot on your mind," she said, tossing her blond ponytail back over her shoulder with a coy smile.

Will nodded with an insincere smile and mentally kicked himself. One moment of inattention and he managed to plow into the reason he had been avoiding Engineering for over a month. And now she was standing in front of him, rocking back and forth slightly with an expectant smile on her face. He fought the urge to let out his frustration.

"Thank you Lieutenant, that will do. Why don't you call it a night?", Geordi called from the corner where he and Data were pouring over an information display. "Commander, right over here." he then flagged down his commanding officer.

Lieutenant Brown looked back over her shoulder as she walked away and batted her eyes at Will. "Bye, Commander," she said before turning around and leaving.

Will sighed and walked towards his colleagues.

"You alright, Commander?" Geordi asked. "Looked like she almost caught you there."

"I wasn't watching where I was going," Will told him.

"Obviously," Geordi replied.

"When you say that Lieutenant Brown almost _caught _Commander Riker, would that be presuming that she was seeking him out in some way?" Data asked them, puzzled.

Will and Geordi exchanged a knowing look.

"Data, Lieutenant Brown has been trying to get that close to Commander Riker for months now. Haven't you seen how she flicks her hair and bats her eyes whenever he's in the same room? And whenever something remotely interesting happens, she's the first to recommend we get Commander Riker down here."

Will rolled his eyes. "Usually I'm much better than that at avoiding her," Will commented.

Data raised his eyebrows and nodded as if he understood. "So you do not find Lieutenant Brown to be attractive," Data stated matter of factly.

"She's attractive enough," Will said with a shrug.

"If she weren't stalking him," Geordi added.

"Or maybe if she weren't a year ahead of Wesley Crusher's graduating class at the academy," Will added.

"You believe her to be too young for you," Data clarified.

"Well she sure isn't too old for me," Will replied.

"And then there's the whole issue of company ink," Geordi added.

"Company ink?" Data responded puzzled.

"Did you two have something to show me, or did you just call me down here for the fascinating conversation?" Will asked them.

"Right," Geordi said with a nod. He turned back to the display next to them and launched into his briefing. "The Torsian distress signal bounced off three relays before the shuttle crashed." Geordi began. "Here, here and here. It's a grid. An invisible sensor grid that activates when it receives a communications signal."

Will looked at the display and began to understand what he was seeing. When the Enterprise hailed a Torsian trader it would send off a warning signal to every other ship in the region. The question was, was this system intended to be offensive or defensive?

Will continued to listen to Geordi and Data's detailed explanation, but when it became clear to him that they had no more idea than he did, his mind began to wander. He couldn't stop picturing Deanna sitting at that table alone in Ten forward. Why hadn't he said what he had wanted to say? Was he even sure what that was? He knew he needed to clear it up, but before he tried, he needed to clear out his own head. He knew the right words must be in there somewhere. He needed to make her understand.

"Commander?" Geordi's voice broke through his thoughts. "Did we loose you there?"

"No. I'm with you," Will lied. He didn't have any idea what the chief engineer had been saying. "The thing alerts the…um, the other thing." Will cleared his throat and tried to pull himself back to the work in front of him. This was something important. He needed to focus. "When we open a communications channel we set off the alarm," he said concisely.

"That's the short of it, yeah," Geordi agreed.

"Okay," Will told them with a nod. "That leaves us quite a bit to figure out. Data, I want you to send this to me in a written report so I can go over it with the Captain in the morning." At least that would make sure he didn't miss any of the details while he was preoccupied with more pressing private matters. "Good catch there, gentlemen. If that's it, I need to head out," Will told them stepping away. "Don't work too much longer. It's getting late," he called back over his shoulder. "It looks like tomorrow isn't going to be any better."

"Goodnight Commander," Geordi called.

----

As Will turned the corner, he heard Data asking Geordi to explain what he was referring to by his comment about company ink, and as much as Will would have enjoyed listening to Geordi's explanation of the human idiom, he had something that needed his attention more. He stepped into the turbo lift. "Computer, locate Counselor Troi."

"Counselor Troi is in her quarters," the computer system answered him.

"Deck six," he called and the lift jumped into action.

By the time he stood outside her door, he was fairly certain that he knew what he needed to tell her. He just hoped that she wouldn't hate him for it.

He pressed the chime and waited… and waited…

Finally the door opened and Deanna stood in front of him, her arms folded across her chest, as if she were cold. He could see that she had been crying, and he hated the thought that he'd been the cause.

"Hi," he said quietly, lowering his eyes, ashamed.

"Hi," she replied. They stood there, not looking at one another for a few moments.

"So you worked things out with Geordi and Data?" she asked daring to look back at him.

With a heavy sigh, Will looked into her dark eyes. "I'm sorry," he began.

"It happens. Don't worry about it."

"No, I know that. I'm trying to tell you… I'm sorry."

"_I'm_ sorry," Deanna told him. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I shouldn't have asked you to…" But Will pressed his finger to her lips. Her eyes widened with surprise, but she fell silent.

"Can I come in, or are you gonna make me do this here?" he asked her as he looked around the corridor where he stood.

Deanna nodded and they walked inside her quarters. She still stood with her arms folded across her chest, but Will sat on her couch. He fiddled with the book of poetry that sat on the cushion next to him for a minute then placed it on the table in front of him, and picked up the mug that sat there.

"What is this?" he asked curiously as he peeked inside. He had expected to find remnants of a hot chocolate, but instead all he saw was a touch of clear liquid that smelled a bit like bitter citrus.

Deanna quickly swiped the mug from his hand. "Tea," she said as she returned it to the replicator. She turned back to Will and sighed. "What is it you wanted to say?" she asked him.

Will nodded. It was better to get it over with. "I wanted to explain," he said. "I didn't want to hurt or upset you, but I can't just…"

Deanna put her hand up for him to stop. "I understand perfectly well. Just forget it."

"No, Deanna," he told her rising from his seat and coming to stand next to her. "You think I don't want to have sex with you."

"It's awkward, I know. You don't want to…"

"No, Deanna. Stop and let me finish. I've invested a fair amount of energy putting this into words, the least you could do is let me say them instead of assuming that you know how I feel. You are a great counselor, Dea, but sometimes in your personal life… you can be a little off."

"Off?" Deanna said incredulously.

"That's what I said," he told her, not giving her an inch. "So are you gonna let me tell you how I feel or are you gonna say it for me?"

Deanna raised her eyebrow skeptically. "By all means," she finally told him.

He watched her closely until he was sure she was not going to interrupt him.

"You think I don't want to have sex with you," he began again. "But that's not the problem. For you this isn't about emotion, I mean not in a good way. It's therapy. And it should be all about _you_ and what you need. And for that, you should be with someone who isn't thinking 'sex with Deanna Troi…Yeeh Hoo!'" He said making a mock cheering motion with his arms.

Deanna tried to hide her sudden surge of laughter. Will, however, sighed deeply and looked defeated.

Deanna looked back at him skeptically. "But…" she urged him.

Will sighed again, running his hand through his hair. "But", he repeated, "there's this little part of me, maybe not that little actually, that's…" he shrugged, then raised his hands in his cheer. "Yeeh Hoo," he said a bit sheepishly. He could feel his cheeks burning, and that wasn't a sensation he was used to.

Deanna was watching him, trying to hide her smile, as she was blushing as well.

"Come on," Will told her "That can't possibly surprise you."

"Surprise me that you feel that way… no not really, I suppose. Hearing you say it out loud… that's totally different," she told him. "So your problem isn't that you don't want to have sex with me, but that you do?" Deanna clarified, shaking her head slightly. "But Will, if you are just worried about some unrealistic expectation…"

"Deanna," Will struggled, taking a seat back on her sofa. "Don't you get it? That's not what you need, not even what you're asking for. And if I say yes, because I'm so busy thinking about what I get to do…then…then I'm no better than any of those men that hurt you, used you."

"Will," Deanna called coming to his side, and taking his hand. "How can you say something like that? How could you compare yourself to them?"

"It's not that different, Dea. It's not. And I won't do that to you."

"You would never do that to me. I know that. That's why I could ask you. Will, please don't think that about yourself. How can I show you how different it is?"

"No, Deanna. Why can't _you_ see it? What you need is someone who puts you first and doesn't think about _anything_ else, someone who can make you feel completely safe and in control. You need, I don't know, a therapist or something."

"Know anyone on board?" Deanna asked sarcastically.

"I'm serious, Deanna," he told her. "What you want…I…Deanna, I'm not that guy. I know I should be. I wish I were that guy…especially right now at this moment. But I know me, and I know you. And Deanna, I'm not that guy. I could try to pretend I was, but…I won't lie to you like that." Will reached up and tenderly pushed some hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry."

"I believe you _are _that guy," Deanna told him softly.

"I don't," he said quietly. "Forgive me? - I can't handle you mad at me about this."

There was a pause before she answered him. "Sure," Deanna said, looking away. He knew she was embarrassed. "It's okay. I'll figure it out. Or I won't." Deanna stood up and began to pace as she hugged herself again. "I'm sure eventually…I mean it's not like every man on board knows…" she let the sentence die off and Will felt his anger surge. Her eyes locked with his for a moment before she looked away.

"Why don't we just move on, okay?" she offered.

Will stood up and shook his head. He felt like a coward standing there in front of her. "Okay. I am sorry."

"I know you are," she told him and he could tell that she meant it. "If you don't mind, I'm really tired." Will nodded and walked towards the door. "Good night," she told him. "Thank you, for telling me. Even if it was the 'it's not you, it's me'…it's still better than 'it's you'," she told him as he stepped to the door.

Will watched her for a moment as she fiddled with her hands. "Good night Deanna," he finally said helplessly as he walked out the door.

Will headed slowly down the corridor, not seeing anything in front of him, making his way by memory as his mind whirled with so many thoughts at once that he wasn't sure what to think about first. What he knew for sure was that he wasn't going to sleep if he went home and he sure as hell didn't want to sit and wallow alone.

What was it that was making him feel this way? He knew he was frustrated with himself for not being _that guy,_ no matter how bad he wanted to be. He felt like a jerk telling her that. And he knew she still felt awkward. They had been so close and he couldn't keep from worrying that this would put a wedge between them somehow.

And what had she meant that not every man on the ship knew…Did she honestly think that he hadn't heard about Damon Paule and their meeting in Ten forward? Is that what this was about? Because he had no intention of being the warm up act for some hot shot Torsian ex patriot. And was _that_ really what she wanted? _What the hell?_ He was angry, and he didn't want to be. But he kept hearing her say that she was happy with their relationship just the way it was. "Well, that makes one of us," he said to himself as he headed through the doors of Ten forward. It was getting late and the room was emptying quickly.

He walked to the bar and took a seat, content to wallow with a drink.

Guinan brought him an ale without asking. "Tough night I take it," she said.

Will nodded slowly looking into his glass. "I don't want to talk about it," he said slowly enunciating each word.

Guinan nodded understandingly. "As you wish, Commander," she said and she walked away to assist someone else.

He sat and sipped at his drink alone at the bar for what must have been an hour, as the room slowly emptied around him. His drink was replaced with another and then another as the time continued to tick by. He continued to wallow until he felt the mellowing buzz of his drink numb his inner ache. He knew he had done the right thing. Why was it that sometimes doing the right thing made you feel like shit, he wondered as the room around him fell stony silent in its now near empty state.

He saw her step up next to him and he almost groaned, but it was too late to get up and walk away. It was too late for a lot of things, especially to be alone with this particular woman.

"Commander," she said sliding into the seat next to him. "Looks like I'm not the only one up late."

Will looked over to her and found that she looked pretty good out of uniform, in an incredibly form-fitting top and skirt that didn't leave an awful lot to the imagination.

"Lieutenant Brown," he greeted her. "How's your shoulder?" he asked.

She smiled coyly at him and rubbed her hand along where he had ran into her earlier in Engineering and she did it surprisingly seductively. "I think it'll take more than a little bump in the shoulder to get me down. But you can kiss it better if you want to."

Will raised his eyebrows, surprised by how forward she was being. "Ah," he pushed his drink away from him at the bar. "Lieutenant," he began.

"Charlotte," she corrected him.

Will sighed and started again. "Charlotte, it has been a very long day, and I really don't feel like talking about it."

"Well, you'll find out that I'm not much of a talker," she said reaching out and touching his chest lightly.

"It's pretty late," he said.

"Then why don't you come with me and tuck me into bed?"

Will knew this was a bad idea. It was one thing when they were about to leave for a different duty station. But he was also quick to remind himself that she was not in his chain of command. There was nothing technically wrong with what he was doing as he followed her out of the now almost empty lounge and down the hall. Her hand was caressing his arm as he followed just behind her. He knew this wouldn't change anything, but maybe it would distract him just for the night. Part of him just wanted to show that he could do it, that he wasn't second best or a buddy for when someone needed one. Someone _wanted_ him, even if Deanna only _needed_ him.

They stepped into the lift together and as soon as the doors closed they were kissing, their hands flying all over each other. She felt firm and agile as she pressed into him against the wall of the lift. He knew she should have been able to hold his attention, but his mind was wandering again. Images of Deanna floated through his mind. It started with them kissing, but changed to pictures of her with Damon Paule, and then of her screaming and fighting against a Galian attacker.

Will pulled away from the woman in front of him slightly and shook his head to clear it of the pictures. He looked down at her. She was young and attractive. He ran his hand up her shoulder and behind her neck and pulled her roughly to him and kissed her again. He just needed to focus. But his mind just wouldn't stay on the here and now. Either way, it didn't matter. His body was in autopilot, acting and reacting, regardless of what his mind was doing. _Concentrate, Riker,_ he told himself. _Get your head in the game. She's young and beautiful…young. Really young,_ he cautioned himself. _Focus! Focus on Charlotte. Not Deanna, Charlotte. Charlotte, _he thought as his mind began to wander again. _Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte._ _What rhymes with Charlotte? Charlotte- Harlot? Damn it! Great, _he thought._ Which one of us am I calling that? The twenty something after her superior officer, or myself? The man whore who will have sex with a woman he doesn't even know and who means nothing to him, but when his best friend needs him, he runs away?_ He asked himself as her hand slipped up under his shirt and began scratching at his chest. _God damn it!_ He didn't even know where his hands were_. Damn autopilot!_

Will abruptly stepped back from his companion. How had he gotten himself into this?

"We shouldn't be doing this," he told her, shaking his head.

Charlotte Brown was breathing hard, leaning back against the wall. "Isn't that kind of what makes it so fun?" she asked.

Will stood there, looking at the woman in front of him, and honestly thought about the question. Was he having fun? In fact when was the last time he could remember doing something like this and in the morning still thinking that it had been fun? This wasn't what he wanted to be doing, wasn't who he even wanted to be. This wasn't enough, not any more. _I could be that guy,_ he thought to himself. _I just have to choose to be that guy. _It suddenly seemed to make a lot of sense.

Will felt the turbo lift come to a stop and the doors opened behind him. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I need to go," he said stepping out of the lift. He heard her gasp with exasperation behind him as he turned around. He knew how abrupt his behavior was, and what she must have thought of him. But he really didn't care.

Without looking back, he walked through the corridor to the adjacent lift and with a deep sigh; he set off to what he needed to do. "Deck Six," he called to the computer and the lift set off to take him back to where he wanted to be.

It all became perfectly clear to him as the lift ascended. It wasn't about him, and he didn't care. It didn't matter if she wanted him, or needed him, or if she was happy with the way things were between them, or if she wanted something different. This was about getting her life back, letting her feel like herself again. If what she needed was therapy, then that's what she would get. And if he could have gone back in time four and half hours, he would have said, yes. Just yes, whatever you need. Maybe even I'm flattered that you trust me that much. Anything would have been better than what he had done.

He rang the chime on her door and waited for her to respond. When none came, he rang again. By the third chime he was beginning to realize what time it must have been.

Then slowly, the doors slid open as if they too had been asleep.

Deanna stood, much the way she had been hours before, staring back at him, but her eyes were glazed over somehow, almost as if she were drunk, and her hair was a mess.

"You were sleeping," Will said flatly, his own buzz from the drinks at the bar, long gone.

"It's after one. So, yes. I was sleeping," she mumbled.

"Right. Sorry. I'll come back in the morning," Will said embarrassed and turned to walk away.

Deanna reached out and grabbed his arm. Perhaps she could sense his urgency. "Well I'm awake now," she told him. "And I suppose technically, it is morning. What is it?" she asked as she let go of his arm and folded hers back across her chest.

He was suddenly very nervous. "It's therapy," he said. "And I said I'd do whatever I could." He looked at her as if hoping she would understand, but she only stared at him with a furrowed brow. "I want to be _that guy. I can_ be that guy… for _you_."

He watched her eyes clear from their confused fog and a slight smile cross her face. "Are you sure?" she asked him almost shyly.

"It is therapy right? And not you know, lay out in the woods naked to stop thinking about being naked, kind of therapy, but actual…I don't know, proven…"

"You think this is an elaborate rouse to get you into bed?" Deanna asked him.

Will smiled weakly back at her.

"And as I recall, laying in the woods naked seemed to do the trick just fine."

"True enough," he admitted.

"That was one of the best nights of my life," she admitted quietly, looking at some unknown object apparently near the floor.

Will stood there, suddenly shuffling his feet like an awkward teenager. "Mine too," he told her honestly and he felt his cheeks start to burn again. _What is the matter with me?_ he asked as he looked at his feet.

Deanna leaned out her door and pulled his face down to her and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said softly and when he looked at her, he saw the tears welling up in her eyes.

There was a part of him that wanted to turn into her kiss and taste her soft lips against his mouth, but he took the thought and tucked it away. He could be the guy that thought about her and not what he wanted.

"So do you want to come in?" Deanna asked, as if she realized for the first time that they were hovering between her door and the vacant corridor outside.

"Right now?" He asked aghast. "Gosh, I should have brought flowers or something."

Deanna started to chuckle. "No, Will. I didn't mean to do it right now. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to be a little less groggy for… you know…the big event."

"Okay, but do we have to call it a '_big_ event'? It puts a lot of pressure on a guy," Will told her.

Deanna smacked him hard in the chest. Hard enough that it made him catch his breath.

"I'm going back to bed," she told him.

"I'm just sayin'" he said and she rolled her eyes and turned back inside.

"I'm off tomorrow," she told him, looking back over her shoulder.

"So do you want to meet here or we could…"

"Why don't we meet in Ten forward for dinner," she suggested. "Say, eighteen hundred?"

"How about 18:30? I'm on the bridge till 17:00," he told her.

"18:30? How much primping time do you need?"

"You're the one who called it 'the big event'," he chided her, then he became more serious. "You're sure about this?" he asked. "Because I would understand if you changed your mind."

Deanna took a moment to answer him, and one deep breath. "I haven't. 18:30, Ten forward. It's a date."

Will watched her turn and start to walk back towards her bedroom.

"Good night Deanna," he called after her.

"Good night, Imzadi," she said softly as he stepped away and let the door close behind him.


	18. Rescue 18

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Thank you for all your support and feedback. You have all been so patient and supportive. I hope this makes you as happy as a chapter like this can possibly make you! :)

**Chapter 18**

Will Riker sat in his chair on the bridge, nervously ticking time with his foot. His shift was over in a matter of minutes and all he could think about was what lay in front of him.

He'd been going over it in his head all day. What would he wear? His uniform? It was a safe bet, but somehow he doubted that she would be wearing hers. On the other hand, if she did wear hers and he was dressed casually...Maybe that would make her uncomfortable. This was therapy after all. But when he was leaving the night before she had said 'it's a date'. Did that mean an appointment or a date? Like a _date?_ Because if it was a _date,_ he definitely shouldn't wear his uniform. They were planning on having sex, so wouldn't that make it a _date?_ _No!_ This was not a date, this was therapy. _Therapy,_ he told himself again just as the lift doors opened and the gamma shift stepped onto the bridge.

"Sir," Commander Burns greeted the captain in the chair next to him.

"Good evening, Commander." The captain said rising from his chair. He looked towards Commander Riker, who would have usually given the shift report, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Captain Picard turned back to the Gamma shift commander. "Do you have questions for us, Commander?" the captain asked.

"No, Sir. I have read the reports."

The captain nodded. "Very well. You have the bridge, Commander Burns." Before he could even say goodnight and without a word to anyone, Commander Riker darted from his chair to the aft turbo lift.

The captain followed him, curiously. Commander Riker had been unusually quiet the whole day. He hoped that there wasn't a problem. He seemed eager to leave the bridge and for his first officer, that in itself was unusual.

"Pressing engagement, Number One?" he asked coming up behind his first officer as he waited for the lift.

Will Riker turned around and looked at his captain. "No Sir," Will lied. "Just a long day."

The captain looked at him skeptically, but said nothing.

"Good night, Sir," Will said as the doors to the lift opened. Somehow he had ended up in the lift alone and it was just as well. He wasn't about to talk about his evening plans. It wasn't a lie that he had told his captain, he reasoned. Was he feeling guilty? This certainly wasn't what he had in mind when he had made that promise.

He hurried back to his quarters as his thoughts continued to whirl around the evening's plans. He considered shaving his beard. It wasn't Deanna's favorite thing in the world, but maybe that too would be too much. Besides, what would he tell his friends? He could only imagine the questions he would get at abruptly shaving off his beard. No, Deanna would have to put up with it, he decided as he stepped into his shower. His stomach was grumbling at him and it had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn't eaten in hours.

What was it he was so nervous about? He had done this before. _They_ had done this before, as Deanna had reminded him. Granted, it had been a while. And this was his first real attempt in his life to worry completely about someone else. He could do this. He would eat dinner with her, go home with her and… and…then what? Did she have a plan? Things she wanted, or needed to try? Why hadn't he thought to ask?

_Okay, Riker, get it through your head. You're gonna take her home, take her clothes off and make love to her. Make her feel safe. Let her be in charge. You're not gonna make a big deal out of seeing her naked. You have seen her naked before. In fact you have seen her naked more in the last three months than you've seen in the last three years. _

_It'll all seem natural. We'll have sex; I'll hold her until she's sure she's safe and then…oh, shit. Do I stay? I have duty in the morning. Do I wear a uniform so I have one in the morning? Do I bring one? Does she expect me to stay? Or will she want me to go? If this were a date, I would stay. Definitely. On the other hand, if it's therapy… then when your session is up, you leave. She isn't going to hold me to a time schedule is she?_

The longer he stood in the shower, the more questions he came up with. It was making him feel like he was going to go crazy. He dried off and brushed his teeth, trimmed his beard, and went to pick out something to wear. It had to be right. Everything about this had to be right. He didn't want to push her. She was the one who said that she was happy with their relationship just like it was. It didn't matter that he wanted more, had wanted more for a long time now. If he dressed up too much, she would think he was trying too hard to convince her that he wanted this. If he showed up like a slob, she would think he didn't care. What was it that she thought he wanted anyway? Did she understand that he was completely in love with her, always had been? Somehow he doubted it. No matter how he had tried to tell her, she had never seemed to get the message. Did she just think he wanted her, that this was about something physical? Was that why she always kept her distance? Because that was never enough for her, and it certainly wasn't what she needed in her life right now. Maybe he was over thinking all of this. Maybe it wasn't really this hard. After all, so what if she didn't want him to stay. No big deal. They were friends, had been for years. They could be honest with each other. That's what it would take to get them through this…complete honesty.

Still, he couldn't stop his stomach from churning. As he dressed, he was very conscious of the feeling that his hands were too big, awkward and clumsy. It was like he had gone back in time, and he was fifteen, asking a girl out on a date for the first time. For how nervous he was and how much thought he had put into everything from his hairstyle to his underwear, it might as well have been his first time.

It was 18:28 as Will rounded the bend in the corridor to Deanna's door. She had said to meet in Ten forward, but that just seemed cheap somehow to him. He carried a small case over his shoulder containing a uniform, for the morning, as well as a few other personal items, and in his other hand he carried flowers.

He was almost bursting with nerves. He just wanted to see her. Being with her would help calm him down. She could always calm his nerves.

He rang the chime and waited for her answer.

"Come in," Deanna called and the doors slid open in front of him. She was standing there, wearing a black leather skirt and a silver blue silk top that wrapped tightly against her frame. Will's immediate thought was he was not at all sure how it fastened or how to take it off, but he tried not to get ahead of himself.

She looked the picture of calm, and it almost irritated him. She was wearing the perfect outfit, and yet as he glanced over into her bedroom, there were not the eight outfits that Will had left scattered on his floor. Was it possible that she hadn't needed the hour to make such basic decisions?

Will hung just inside the door, suddenly feeling a bit awkward about the items he carried, but Deanna smiled at him, as she balanced on one foot and slipped the heel of her left pump onto her foot. "Hi," she said a bit surprised to see him. "I thought we were meeting in Ten forward?"

Will shrugged. "Yeah, well…Dad didn't teach me a lot, but he did teach me better manners than that," he replied and held out the flowers. "These are for you."

Deanna smiled and he thought he saw a slight blush to her cheeks. "You didn't have to do that," she told him. He wondered if that really meant that he didn't have to or that he shouldn't have done that. She took the flowers from his hand and smelled them. They were delicate. "Lilies," she said quietly and Will almost sighed with relief. "Thank you," she continued. "Come in. Let me put them in some water. I'm almost ready." She paused and gave a curious look to the bag over his shoulder.

Will felt his stomach sink. "I…uh. If I was gonna spend the night, I thought…It's just a uniform and a toothbrush."

"Don't want to use mine, huh?"

"Deanna, I don't have to stay the night. But I just thought…"

"Better to be prepared?"

"It's that officer training," he said with a shrug.

Deanna took the flowers to the replicator and ordered a vase, then set it on the table and quickly arranged the flowers in it. "You don't have to stay the night, if you don't want to," she finally said quietly.

"Do you want me to?" he asked.

They both smiled at each other shyly. Then she shrugged. "Why don't we just see how it goes," she suggested.

"Works for me," he said dropping his bag into the corner by the door. "So do you want to go eat?"

He watched as Deanna's hand grazed across her stomach. He wondered if hers was doing the same kind of flips that his was.

"We don't have to eat," he said. "We could just skip it and…" he let the sentence die away as he watched her closely.

"No, no. We said dinner. Let's go to dinner. I'll just be a second." Deanna dashed back into her bathroom and left Will standing awkwardly in her front room. The whole place was spotless, nothing out of place. Maybe she had taken out some of her nervous energy by cleaning, he hoped, or at least hoped that she had at least bothered to have some nervous energy. The thought that he was the only one in a tither about this was really getting to him.

"Okay," she said as she walked out of the bathroom and slipped a silver hoop earring through her ear. She had added a matching necklace and the earring in her other ear was already dangling there. "I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" he asked as she approached him. For the first time, he could see that she was trembling, ever so slightly. Oddly enough, it somehow made him feel a bit better.

She nodded, her dark eyes wide as she studied his face.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, why?" Deanna asked.

"You're shaking," he told her reaching out and holding on to her arm.

Deanna sighed. "I'm a bit nervous," she confessed.

"Good," he told her, slipping his hand down until he held her trembling hand securely in his own. "That makes two of us."

Her smile was the reward for his honesty. She leaned into his shoulder as he escorted her out of her quarters and off to Ten forward for dinner.

The dinner conversation started out slowly. Neither one of them seemed to have much of an appetite as they sat at a table tucked in the corner, away from anyone else. Will watched her pick at her food for a while before he asked her again. "You know we don't have to be here eating, right?"

Deanna only nodded and tried to give him a smile, but it didn't quite come out right. "I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure him.

"You're scared about this," he tried to guess at what she was thinking.

"No…Well, yes, but I want to do it. I do."

"But it doesn't have to be tonight," he told her again. He hated how she was fidgeting and pushing the food around her plate. What must be going through her mind, he wondered.

"Will, I'm doing this _tonight_," she said with all her determination, then she hesitated. "Unless you've changed _your_ mind."

"No. No. I'm in," he reassured her. "Nervous as hell, but I'm all in."

Deanna sighed, lookomg relieved.

"So, do you want to talk about it?" he asked her.

Deanna raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Okay," she said. "Typically a man and a woman, when they find one another attractive…" she began, a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"You know what I mean," he chastised her.

"I'm not entirely sure that I do," she said as she sipped at her water.

"I guess I'm just wondering what the rules of engagement are," he said with a shrug.

"My god, Will. It's not a battle!" she told him sternly.

"You know what I mean," he said again. "What do you want me to do, or not to do?"

"I don't know." She sounded almost exasperated with him. "I wasn't going to write a battle plan, Will. I was hoping we could just go with what felt natural. I mean even if I gave you a list of dos and don'ts, I can't very well make the next man or the next..."

Will looked away from her, down at the table. He knew he was clenching his jaw, but he tried to fight the instinct to shake his head in frustration. He couldn't imagine himself with anyone else, not at this moment, and she was talking about the next guy she would sleep with. Could he do this…make love to the woman who held his heart and know it was nothing more than a warm up act for her?

_She's your friend. No matter what. You do what she needs,_ he chided himself, but when he looked back at her, there were almost tears in her eyes. Did she realize how much that comment had hurt him? And if so, what must she think of him, feeling so possessive of her when he had no right to be?

"Will," she began to explain, but he shrugged her off trying to play it cool...no pressure.

"It's fine, Dea. It's your life and your body. You should do what you want with it, whatever makes you happy." He looked down at his plate and took a hurried bite. He didn't want to talk about it anymore and didn't feel like sharing his thoughts on the matter with her. He tried to shield his feelings from her the best he could. He'd never been very good at it, but he hoped that it was good enough. If he was lucky she was too caught up in her own emotions to get a clear idea of his.

They ate quietly for a while longer, occasionally sharing some tid bit of news, but nothing that flowed into a true conversation. When it was clear that they were both done, Will began shifting in his seat, searching for the right words.

"So," she said slowly. She looked around the room, trying to find something to say.

There were several couples eating, other people playing games along the windows, and still other groups of people gathered at the bar or at the larger tables laughing and talking. Finally she focused back on the man across from her. Her dark eyes were large as she looked at him expectantly.

"So," he repeated. "I'm not sure I can come up with something to say here that isn't going to sound like a bad line."

"Try me," she said casually.

Will shrugged. "Okay, your place or mine?" he asked.

Deanna smiled and tried not to laugh. "You're right. That was a bad line." She stood up and reached for his hand, then bent close to his ear and whispered, "Lucky for you, I'm sort of a sure thing tonight."

Will started to laugh silently as well as he shook his head. Sometimes she never failed to surprise him. "You ready?" he asked her as he stood as well.

"As I'm gonna get," she answered and he lead her to the door.

They walked silently back to her quarters. Suddenly the most casual of touches seemed to sit right on the brink of being something more. He was keenly aware of the warmth of the small of her back against his hand, and how his thumb rested against the top of her skirt, almost dipping inside. As they reached her door, she took a step in front of him and her fingers laced through his as she stepped inside, pulling him behind her. Her fingers were warm and soft and he liked the feeling of her hand in his. It was soothing to him, but when she turned to face him, she looked terrified.

She let out a long sigh as the doors closed behind them. "So," she said again, half-heartedly.

He wanted to just kiss her, to let her know that she was going to be okay, but he didn't want to rush her, so he stayed a step back. She was fiddling with her fingers, then she dropped her hands to her sides and looked down, choking back the tears.

With one move towards her, he wrapped her in her arms and held her close to his chest. "It's okay," he said softly against her hair. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

With a sniff, she pulled away and looked up at him. "But I _do_ want to. I swear!" She wiped furiously at the unshed tears in her eyes. "I don't want to be scared anymore, Will."

He ran his own thumb along her soft cheek, where a small scrap of tear escaped from her. "Are you 100% sure?" he asked her again. She didn't seem sure to him, and he didn't want to do anything until she was.

Deanna took a few deep breaths before looking back into his eyes and she again tried to smile. "Yes," she said. Her voice was calm and she seemed to have gotten her nerves under control.

"Okay, then here are my rules."

Deanna raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, questioning him, but he didn't let her offer an opinion on the topic. He wanted her to know how he felt about this. It was important.

"No means no," he told her calmly. "Stop means stop. If you change your mind forty-five minutes from now, you say the word, and it's over. No one gets mad or upset. I won't be disappointed."

Deanna raised her eyebrows again.

"Okay, it won't matter if I'm disappointed," he tried to be more honest with her. "Whatever you need, Dea, just ask. Slow down, move your hand... Whatever it is, I'll do it. I want to do this _for you_. Fair enough?"

Deanna's eyes were brimming with tears again, but this time, the smile that went along with them was sincere. "Thank you," she said softly, hugging him tightly.

"Well, I'd say any time, but that seems a little inappropriate," Will replied, then shook his head at himself. He hated when he did that, but the more nervous he got, the more he cracked lame jokes.

"Will," she said sternly, hitting him in the shoulder.

"Okay," he said almost to himself. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. They were soft and he could smell her scent all around him. He loved it, and yet there was something that felt forced. He could tell she felt the same way. Their lips were the only things touching, like six year olds in the schoolyard. He pulled away and sighed.

He could do better than this. _They _could do better than this. If there was anything he knew for sure it was that they could set a room on fire with a kiss when they really meant it. He looked back at her and she waited nervously in front of him. He ran his hand through her hair and pulled it back from her face and kissed her again, this time with as much intensity as he dared. But it was no use. He was back to feeling like his hands were two sizes too big as they awkwardly brushed through her hair. It was like they suddenly didn't fit together. Their noses bumped and their arms got tangled, until finally Deanna pulled away.

She stepped back and walked a few steps away from him. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts. Maybe she had changed her mind entirely. He wouldn't blame her. This was suddenly more awkward than he ever would have dreamed. Like kissing a sister, but weirder...a sister you've already had sex with and are madly in love with? That didn't seem like the best analogy after all.

"Maybe the kissing isn't necessary," Deanna said awkwardly, interrupting his thoughts.

"I can do this," he assured her emphatically.

"No, I know you can. We just need to get more comfortable." She took a few steps towards her bedroom.

Will stood in her way with his back towards the bedroom door and looked at her a bit surprised. "You have a plan to make this less awkward?" he asked her.

"I was thinking I'd just strip and see if that made you more or less nervous."

Will felt his heart skip a beat. "Nervous? I'm not nervous," he almost stuttered, trying to seem more relaxed than he was. As if to prove that he was comfortable, he spun around to walk into her bedroom. However it seemed he had badly misjudged the distance between him and the bulkhead behind him as his forehead made a loud crack as it slammed into the surface of the wall.

Involuntarily, he slipped down to his knees and covered his forehead with his hand. "Owh," he whispered as his ego deflated like a balloon. _Smooth,_ he screamed at himself. But even that hurt his head.

"Oh, Will!" he heard Deanna cry and then she was on her knees next to him. "Are you okay?" she asked. The words were sincere, but he could hear the slight sound of her stifling a chuckle. "Here, let me look at it," she offered. She tired to pull his hands away to see the damage for herself, but he wouldn't let her move them.

He was going to try to salvage whatever pride he had left. "I'm fine," he said, trying to shake it off. "I'm just fine."

The anger and embarrassment in his voice were too clear and she couldn't stop herself from laughing. She tried to stifle it, but the absurdity of the situation was unbearable.

Will looked out from behind his hands, wide eyed, and incredulous. "You're laughing at me?" he asked accusingly.

Deanna bit her lip, trying in vain to suppress her giggles.

"I walk into walls at the sheer mention of you getting naked, and you have the gall to laugh at me? Really?"

"Oh, you poor baby," she said soothingly, still chuckling. "Maybe I should take you to sickbay, let them have a look at it."

"I'd rather die here in your hallway," he muttered like a sulking child, and Deanna tried to hide her chuckle again.

"Oh, come here, let me kiss it better." She pushed his hand away and this time he let it fall.

"It hurts," he said, starting to chuckle himself. After all, it _was_ completely absurd.

He felt her lips brush against his forehead. "No blood," she whispered as she brushed her fingers along his hair. "I think you'll live."

Will realized that his eyes were closed and immediately opened them, to find her neck, her ear and a single curl of her dark hair dangling in front of him. His heart was pounding, as he ran his hand up her arm and tangled it in her hair. It was like a shock of electricity shot through them, and neither of them was laughing anymore.

Deanna sat back on her heels, looking into his eyes as his hand slid behind her neck and pulled her closer. When their lips met, there was nothing forced about it. She melted into him and he couldn't fight the feeling of finally coming home.

His hands were in her hair, and she was holding onto his collar like she was drowning. When she parted her lips, he brushed his tongue against them and into her mouth, savoring the taste of her, a soft moan escaping from her. That was enough to almost send him over the edge, away from the 'therapy guy' that he was determined to be.

Deanna pulled away for a moment to catch her breath. He felt her start to tremble again so he pulled her hands towards his chest and held them close to his heart.

"Not so funny anymore," Deanna whispered.

"Deanna," he said, rubbing her arms as if warming them would keep them from trembling.

"I'm okay," she whispered.

In one motion she moved back to him, kissing him, firmly. If she was trying to convince him, she was doing a damn good job. He pulled her close to him, his hands running along her back. When her teeth nibbled lightly on his bottom lip, he lost his resolve to focus on her for just a moment and let the sensation sweep over him. A low moan came from somewhere deep inside him.

He wanted her, wanted to touch her and taste her. He moved his lips up to her ear, and pulled the earring away so he could nibble on her earlobe. She gasped with pleasure and it just made him want her more.

_Slow down, Riker, _he told himself as he kissed his way down her neck. She smelled so good. It was almost an out of body experience, being with her like this. He felt her fingers running through the hair at the back of his neck, then opening his shirt and running her hand across his chest. That was it. He pulled the material from her shirt away from her neck and let his mouth devour her as he began feeling for the tie that was holding the rest of the fabric to her. When he found it, it came undone with one tug. For a moment, he felt her body stiffen against him. Her breath caught and he froze.

He felt her tuck her head into his neck taking a couple of deep breaths. He had frightened her and it pulled him right out of the fog that he had been focusing on. He didn't dare move for a moment, but after a few more of her deep breathes he very slowly he let his hands continue their movement, pulling her shirt away from her. Then he remained still and waited for her reaction.

She moved away from him enough that he could slide the shirt down her arms and off of her. Then immediately, she wrapped her arms back around his neck. He pulled his own shirt off and felt the heat of their skin as they ran together.

"Imzadi?" he whispered. She was clinging to his neck so tightly that he could not see her face and he had no idea what she was feeling. So he pulled back enough to see her expression and waited for her to say something.

But she didn't answer him. Instead she kissed him fiercely, wrapping her legs around him where they knelt together in a heap on the floor in her bedroom doorway. She kept as much body contact as possible as she ran her hands along his back. He loved what she was doing to him, however he couldn't help but feel like she was hiding from him by holding him so close. He stood up and lifted her off the ground with him. It shocked him, how little weight he felt against him. He knew the last few months had taken their toll, but he didn't like to think of her like that. He carried her the last few steps to the bed and lowered her to the mattress.

Will let his eyes roam over her and then his hands. As he brushed over her collarbone and down to her chest, he noticed how hard she was breathing, though he didn't know why. He ran his hands along her chest where she had been cut during the attack, remembering the deep wounds in her flesh and wondered if she was thinking the same thing as a tear slid out the side of her closed eyelids. He wiped it away gently and slowly she opened her eyes and tried her best to smile at him reassuringly.

He slowly smiled back as his hands continued down sliding over her breasts and down onto the bare skin of her stomach. Then he leaned over her and kissed her again, gently at first, then more passionately, as if begging her to stay with him, not to let the nightmare pull her away. He could tell how hard she was fighting to stay with him in this moment.

With small movements, he continued his journey, sliding down her sides and along her legs and bottom.

She returned his kiss furiously, still clinging to any inch of skin she could grasp, until finally her breathing steadied out. Waiting until she seemed to know she was safe, he slid his hand under her skirt and slowly, not wanting to startle her, inched his way up, pulling her skirt with it, until he could grab her thighs and pull her closer to him and his own arousal, his mouth moving over the bra covering her breasts.

Suddenly Deanna's body went completely rigid. Her breath was coming rapidly as she choked back tears.

Will released his hold on her leaning away to watch her. She was panting for air. Her hands were clenched firmly in fists at her sides, her eyes pinched shut.

"Deanna," he said softly. She did not respond. "Imzadi," he tried again. "Look at me. Open your eyes."

Deanna shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"Deanna- Look at me," he said more firmly. "I'm right here. It's me. Look at me."

Deanna slowly unclenched her eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks. He moved his hand to wipe her tears away.

"I will never hurt you," he told her softly, wiping at her eyes and brushing her hair away from her face. "Tell me to stop."

She shook her head again. "Please, don't leave me," she whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere," he comforted her.

"I'm scarred," she said so softly, he almost couldn't understand her.

Will held her close to his body almost cradling her in his arms. "I know," he told her. "It's okay. I know."

"I'm sorry," she cried into his chest.

"Don't be sorry. You are doing just fine."

Deanna let out a short bitter huff. "A real turn on, I'm sure," she said, clearly angry with herself.

Will pulled away from her again, leaning over her on the bed, watching her chest rise and fall, her lace bra the only thing separating the bare skins of their chests. He let his eyes roam over her body unashamed.

"You've never had a problem doing that for me," he admitted.

Deanna raised her hand up to the front of his hair and then down his face to his neck, then pulled him down to her and kissed him passionately again.

Will took his time as the rest of their clothes came off. She would freeze up from time to time and he would stop and wait until she would look at him before he continued.

She felt so amazing against him. It was hard for him to think that she was not feeling the same sort of euphoria at their closeness that he was. He could see it on her face, that she was fighting her nerves and emotions the entire time.

She didn't seem capable of relaxing and letting herself enjoy the feeling of what he was doing to her. He didn't want it to be like that, but the more determined he became to make her relax and enjoy it; the more she pushed him away. When he began to stimulate her, she moved his hand away, but it wasn't panic in her eyes, like he had expected… he wasn't sure what it was, and it troubled him, distracted him even. What was that look in her eye? He knew he had seen it before, but he couldn't place it.

But there was a part of him that was in autopilot and his body could not fight his reaction to being with her, as he leaned over her, her naked body against his. "Deanna," he whispered. He didn't want to move faster than she was ready.

"Please, Will."

She wasn't begging with desire, in fact it seemed to stop just short of begging for him to get it over with. And when he slid inside her, he felt her body go rigid under him again. He tried to be as still as possible as he watched her face. Her eyes were closed again, her one hand clenched in a fist grasping at the sheet underneath her, to the side of her head. Had he hurt her?

"Deanna," he said again. "Tell me what you need."

But she just shook her head. Slowly, her clenched fist relaxed and her eyes opened. Her eyes were fixed firm on his, but there was something distant about her. Again, he couldn't put his finger on it, but something about it worried him.

"I'm alright," she finally whispered. He understood that was his signal, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't entirely in the moment. He knew what he had to do, but he found himself closing his eyes and remembering other times with Deanna to get him through it.

There was no noise between them except for an occasional grunt or sigh. But there was no sound of desire from her. And then it was over and Deanna immediately rolled away from him, onto her side.

Will tried to catch his breath as he reached out and touched her back. He didn't want to invade her space, but as he saw her shoulders start to shake with tears he felt his heart breaking. He never should have done this.

_What have I done,_ he asked himself.

The least he could do was hold her and help her feel safe, but as he reached out for her, she suddenly leapt from the bed and ran into the bathroom. Will sat up, surprised by her reaction, until he heard her vomiting.

He let out a deep sigh as he pulled himself from the bed, reaching for his pant. He followed her into her bathroom and found her crouched on the floor, her hair sticking to her face as her body retched again. Will grabbed a washcloth and dampened it before kneeling next to her and pulled her hair back and placed the cloth against her forehead. She slowly took it from him and began to rinse off her face as he rubbed her bare back.

When the retching stopped, the crying returned, first in short stifled sobs, then growing into a more constant but silent flow of tears.

She wouldn't look at him, and Will knew how embarrassed she must have been. He didn't push her. Instead he went to her closet to retrieve her robe. When he opened the doors he was shocked to find absolute chaos.

There were outfits strewn about and wadded up everywhere, pairs of bras and panties lined up on the floor. It was a stark contrast to every other surface in her quarters. Apparently she hadn't been as cool and collected about their evening as she had first appeared.

In a strange way, it made him feel better. It was almost laughable until he heard her retch again and he realized none of his nerves or jitters mattered. He sighed again as he dug through the confusion to find her robe and then went back into the bathroom to find Deanna retching again.

She was gasping for air as her stomach revolted against her.

"Shh," Will whispered as he wrapped her robe around her. There was nothing left in her stomach to vomit. Now she was shaking and panting for air, lying on the floor. He bundled the robe around her trembling body and pulled her to him.

"I'm sorry," Deanna whispered.

"It's alright," he told her softly. "No one is going to hurt you now." He scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the bed.

She seemed grateful as he tucked the blankets around her. She buried her head in her pillow as tears still slid down her cheeks.

Will cautiously sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand through her hair, occasionally whispering a comforting word, until Deanna's tears subsided and turned to hiccups.

He leaned down and kissed her head. "Sleep, Deanna. It's okay," he told her, then stood up from his place on the bed.

Deanna moved her head out from the pillow so she could see him. "Please don't leave me," she whispered.

Will stood there looking back at her, torn. She seemed to want…to need her own space, but she was telling him not to go. "I'm not leaving," he finally told her.

It was like an odd sense of déjà-vu as Will dragged a chair into the bedroom from the front room and grabbed a pillow and blanket and settled in for the night.

He listened as Deanna's breathing evened out and then grew deeper. He knew she was asleep and for the first time, he began to let down some of those emotional guards that he had put up to protect Deanna from his own thoughts and feelings. Maybe that was a lie; maybe it was to protect himself.

Finally he let himself wonder how it was possible that the best sex he had ever had and the worst sex he had ever had could be with the same woman. He began comparing their experiences; that night to that first time in the jungles of Betazed, and suddenly it hit him. It wasn't just what she had been through; it was that she had been silent to him.

Her mind had been completely closed off. He had never been with her like that. There had always been this intense intimacy of shared feelings and emotions. But there had been none of that, and that look in her eyes…it was a professional distance. She was separating her body from her emotions, and keeping them locked tight inside herself, not allowing herself to give in to any pleasure, or any loss of control.

He felt helpless as he sat, watching her sleep in her bed. He realized that it was just a matter of time until the nightmares were bound to begin, so he closed his eyes and hoped he could drift off to sleep for a few minutes.


	19. Rescue 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: For all of you who said to update ASAP- how is this for you? Less than 24 hours! See, Kariker, I promised I wouldn't leave him sleeping in a chair for too long. The last one was so depressing, I just couldn't stand to leave it there. So here is the rest of this section. Actually 18, 19, and 20 are sort of a group, but 20 isn't done, and I don't know when it will be. The chapter and I are fighting. So again, I am back to asking for patience. Maybe feedback will help inspire me :) As for this chapter and the last (especially the last) I owe Tikva a huge thank you. Without her editing, you all would not be reading nearly as good of a story. Okay, here goes, the reason it was rated M in the first place!

**Chapter 19**

Deanna fell into a deeper sleep than she'd thought possible, as if the purging of her stomach and emotions was enough to clear her mind. As she fell asleep she could also feel a sense of Will wash back over her. He had been keeping himself so guarded, she was afraid to know why. But as his own mental blocks disintegrated, it was not his thoughts that she sensed, but more the essence of him and despite how she had reacted to their encounter, the mere sense of him let her drift off deeply.

When she did wake up, she could tell it was the middle of the night. She didn't know what had woken her, particularly. Slowly she sat up and looked around the room, thinking that maybe Will had gone home, but he was right there, near the bedroom doorway, sleeping, sprawled out in a chair. He was watching over her…just like he always did. Just like he always had. He looked like his neck would be kinked in four different ways when he woke up, and there was a god sized lump on his forehead from his run in with the bulkhead, but it didn't seem to make any difference to him. He was still there, and for the first time in her life, she had a hope in the possibility that he always would be.

She watched him sleeping peacefully and let the sense of him seep through her. That's when she realized what had woken her. Will was dreaming…dreaming of her. The dream itself was a mystery, but the emotions of it were clear. It was happiness and contentment. She wished she could have seen what he was experiencing instead of just the residual emotions. What she knew for sure was that it was not erotic. There was no lust… there was… love. Love. And it was strong and deep. She wished for just a moment that she could believe that feeling, that it wasn't just a fleeting piece of a dream. She wished that she could always feel that from him, because then she might dare to admit that she felt much the same way.

She looked down at her body wrapped in her blue satin robe, her hair loose and messy. She ran her hands through it and pushed it back over her shoulders.

Had she really thrown up?

The memories were a bit of a painful blur. She had cried and thrown up.

_What must he think of me? And why is he still here? _

But before she could even finish forming the question in her mind, the deep love coming from him swept over her again.

She had to admit, it peaked her curiosity about what, exactly, he was dreaming. She leaned forward slightly, towards where he slept. She wondered if she could concentrate deep enough to break into his subconscious…

_No! _She chastised herself. _You are not your mother. His thoughts are his. He has a right to that privacy. Invading his mind to satisfy your own curiosity would be wrong. Terribly wrong. _

And yet she was still puzzled as to why he had stayed. She pulled the robe closer to her as she remembered his strong arms wrapping it against her skin, his soft eyes as he had carried her back to bed and tucked the sheets around her. He had never seemed the least bit angry or disappointed, only concerned. Perhaps he should have been. It didn't go well. It didn't go as she had planned, or how she had spent most of the day imagining it.

….

She had spent most of the morning standing in her closet rummaging around to find an outfit that would be appropriate. It seemed there was something wrong with everything she owned. Too ordinary, too formal, too uniform like, too slutty. She didn't really need to seduce him. It wasn't really what she had in mind, either. But she did want him to at least find her attractive. He was going through all of this for her; the least she could do was make herself nice to look at.

By the time she had selected an outfit, half her wardrobe lay in a scattered mess across her bed, and she was feeling a bit sick to her stomach. She was fairly certain that she had never spent that much time ever fretting over what color of bra to wear. If Will knew what she had been doing, he would probably laugh at her, or worse run away in some sort of a panic. She couldn't make this feel like too much of a commitment for him. He wouldn't take it well.

She had been less jittery when she had actually lost her virginity. It had been a while since she'd done this, at least like this, and it had been years since she'd done this with him.

She sat down on her bed and sighed.

_This is ridiculous._

She stood up again and took off her robe and looked at herself in the mirror. She turned to see her back, as if to assure herself that it was not full of scars, then she reached her hand to her chest and watched her own fingers pull across her flesh.

There were no scars there either. Beverly had done her job perfectly.

She then set her eyes to the rest of her body. She didn't look like she had when she was twenty. She turned her back to the mirror again and looked over her shoulder at her own backside. She made a face of mild disgust. Even with all the working out…

Then her eyes fell just above her right hip to her birthmark. She remembered the look in Will's eyes as they had stood in the arboretum weeks ago, with him looking at her back. _This is gonna work out just fine. I just have to stay calm. _

….

She hadn't stayed as calm as she had planned, and it didn't go as smoothly as she had hoped.

Every move of his body against hers had triggered a memory. It was as if the lights and the smells around her were coming from somewhere else and she had fought tooth and nail the entire time to keep from slipping back into a terrifying nightmare that had nothing to do with the gentle hands that were holding and touching her in the safety of her bedroom.

He had been patient with her, but Deanna had automatically fallen into survival mode. She had to get through it, conquer it and that meant staying in complete control. She couldn't loose focus, or surrender to his enticing touch. She needed to put some distance between them, if not physically, then at least emotionally.

But the more she pulled away, the more guarded he became as well, until he was nothing but a general sense to her. Still, she could read his body language well enough, his facial expression, the hurt and doubt in his eyes as he had picked her up off of the bathroom floor. She hoped that he could understand. It wasn't him. It was simply self-preservation.

Will moved slightly in his sleep and Deanna jumped. She had been so lost in her thoughts and in the study of their emotions that she had almost forgotten that he sat mere meters away, asleep in her chair. A blanket was pulled up over his bare chest, and he wore his pants on his long legs that stretched out across her floor. There was something almost childlike in his expression when he slept, slightly devious, yet innocent. He lost the facade of confident leadership he wore during his waking hours. It was like peaking at something private, intimate even.

She knew that of all the women he'd been with, he had only ever literally slept with a small few. It was a level of intimacy he didn't frequently have the time or patience for. Maybe he just didn't have enough interest in any of them to bother.

And yet he had slept with her, had held her tightly in his arms from the first time they had made love in the warm jungle, to the first night she left sickbay when he had held her in his arms in his bed, nothing but friendship and comfort between them.

Deanna felt a surge of love inside her and for a moment it was unclear which one of them the emotions belonged to. But what she knew for sure is that she wanted more. Simply surviving sex was not enough, and to get to that place, she couldn't keep up the barriers she had created. She would have to surrender some of her control. And there was no one she wanted to do that with more than the man sleeping across from her. She felt such an immense amount of tenderness and gratitude. He had always been there, and even when she had turned away from him, he had not left her. Her only thought was to show him how much she appreciated him, how much she loved him, and that was nothing that any man on a world light years away could take away from her.

Deanna quietly slipped from the bed and stepped close to his sleeping body. There was a moment as she watched him rest that she doubted herself, doubted everything, but again she felt his love wash over her like a wave and she took courage and continued.

She dropped to her knees between his legs and for a moment continued to watch him sleep, the simple rising and falling of his chest mesmerizing her. Slowly, gently, she reached out and touched his bare skin. He was warm, and she watched her hand rise and fall with his rhythmic breathing. It was like he was a magnet of some kind, pulling her closer to him with some unseen force.

With a deep sigh, Deanna let her mind fall open to him. No more blocks, no walls to make him jump over. Then she quietly leaned over him and placed a soft tender kiss over his heart. She lingered there for a moment, taking in the rhythmic pulse. It wasn't close enough. She wanted to be nearer to him. She kissed his chest again, leaving a trail of gentle kisses up to his neck.

Will let out a deep sigh, and Deanna leaned back to watch his face. His eyes were closed, his expression and emotions unchanged. She placed more short kisses around the nape of his neck and up to his earlobe, and yet still, he slept. Something about his warm flesh was so inviting, that she finally tucked her head back against his chest and let the beat of his heart ease away the anxiety inside her.

She had to do this. She had to let him in. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him for a while longer, until she was sure she was ready, and then she began again to place gentle yet firm kisses in a trail down his chest, onto his stomach, her tongue diving momentarily into his belly button.

With that, she felt his body jerk slightly, and she looked up at him, with her chin still resting on his abdomen. His breathing had quickened, but his eyes were still closed. The real change had been in his emotions. No longer were they content, but they were yearning and full of desire. His body was responding to her touch as well, as his legs drew closer to her and his errection began to press against her chest where she knelt between his legs.

Deanna felt the momentary flash of panic, but she shoved it aside, holding on to his emotions and pushing the memories away.

Her kisses continued down, following the fine trail of hair that led from his belly button below the waist of his pants. Her hands slipped around him as well, and began to unfasten his pants as her lips and tongue teased at his flesh.

She could feel that he was aroused, and also that he was slowly waking. So she took her time as she eased his pants down past his hips, her mouth continuing its downward journey.

Will let out a low moan, and the sound of his own voice finally forced his eyes open. She paused and looked up at him, not moving her body from its current position, waiting for his reaction. But he seemed frozen. The only response was another sudden shift in his emotions. She didn't know quite what to make of it, but what she sensed was clear and it was a combination of fear and desire. She waited to see if he would make any attempt to stop her, but he remained laying perfectly still, his only movement coming from his ever increasing labored breathing.

Deanna slowly pulled her eyes away from him and returned to kissing along her path. Her hands pulled again on the waist of his pants and Will lifted his hips to let her slide them down until his errection was exposed, her hands trailing along his thighs until the garment fell below his knees and gravity pulled them the rest of the way.

She kissed along his skin until she came right to the base of his penis. She was afraid to look up at him, most of all that he would stop her. But she slowly pulled away from him, kneeling tall between his legs as she loosened the opening of her robe until her body was bare. She watched as Will's eyes momentarily fluttered shut. The desire was winning out against his fear. Then before she could hesitate, she closed the space between them and continued from where she had left off, trailing kisses along him until she reached its tip.

Will was gasping for air. Under different circumstances she might have thought he was in pain. He still had not moved or spoken. His skin was warm against her where his legs closed around her sides and her chest pressed against him. She fought away a fleeting image of men standing before her in the firelight of a far away world, and placed a kiss on the tip of his penis, before letting it slip into her mouth.

Only then did he pull away from her. She had startled him, and it showed in his emotions as well as his body language. When he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse with desire.

"Deanna," he said pulling away from her into the chair as well as pushing her back gently, his hand on her shoulder. "What are you doing?" The two of them sat studying each other for a moment, as if trying to determine how much to trust, how open to be. "You don't have to," he told her. "You…"

_Imzadi_

The word rang through his mind, and pulled all of his focus from what he had been concentrating on to the mental discipline he had long since lost.

_Trust me,_ she told him simply. She watched his eyes cloud over as if he were lost in a fog of emotions. She knew he had heard and understood as she felt him open up to her and accept her open mind in return. It was a level of trust that they couldn't have shown anyone else. There were no secrets in that moment. Anything they wanted to know was there for the other to find. But Will wasn't searching for anything deeper than _why_ she was kneeling before him.

Deanna looked back into his eyes and smiled a contented smile. She was not conflicted about what she was doing, and when he sensed that from her, he didn't fight her when she continued. He gradually relaxed into the sensation, until his head fell back and he was panting for air again. He didn't want to come this way. He wanted her.

When he pulled away this time, Deanna knew it wasn't out of doubt. He pulled the robe that dangled from her body away from her arms and left it in a pile on the floor as he swept her up and carried her the short distance to the bed. He wanted to see her relinquish some of the control she had fought so hard for. As he covered her mouth with his, he slipped his hand down until he felt the wet folds he was searching for.

She couldn't hide her momentary panic, but his words filled her mind as easily as she had spoken to him.

_Trust me,_ he told her in return, as he watched her, leaning over her on the bed. Her eyes drifted closed as he manipulated her the way that she would not allow him to do just a few hours before, and she moaned with pleasure. Her back arched up to meet him as his mouth closed over one of her nipples, his hand caressing along the bottom of her breast as if it were a thing of reverence. She was panting as he kissed his own trail down her body until he closed his mouth over where his fingers had been exploring and he heard her cry out, but no sound filled the room. In fact there was no sound in the room other than their labored breathing.

Between them, loving words and cries of ecstasy flowed with ease. Their bodies cried out for each other as much as their minds and hearts.

When she pulled herself over him and kissed him firmly, she knew this was not going to be anything like what had happened the last time. She smiled at him again as she slid herself over him. His eyes were closed. He was fighting against his body's need.

_Look at me,_ she told him, not all together differently from how he had spoken to her earlier, except there was no sound. _Imzadi, look at me,_ she said again.

When his eyes opened there was such a mix of emotions held there. He seemed to catch the irony of the moment. But the smile that played on his lips was less about irony as it was about pleasure and love and the contentment of knowing that it was shared with the woman with him.

As they began to move together, the occasional audible moan or cry rang through the silence that surrounded them. But in their minds it was as if they had year's worth of pent up thoughts and feelings that they were each trying to convey.

As Deanna fell over the edge into the oblivion of pleasure, his name rang through the still air, as if it reverberated off the walls. She collapsed onto his chest, feeling spent and vulnerable, and Will wrapped his arms around her tightly, whispering to her mentally and verbally.

"Oh, God Deanna," he mumbled. He was so close, but he wanted her to feel safe. As Deanna caught her breath, she pulled off of his incredibly erect form and kissed him passionately. She was fine. She was better than fine…she was great. She had lost control and yet was completely safe.

"I'll never let anything hurt you again," he whispered against her lips.

She covered his mouth again with hers and brushed her tongue along his lower lip before biting it lightly with her teeth.

_Tell me you want me,_ she begged him.

With one motion, he rolled them so that he lay on top of her. "No," he said out loud.

He felt her disappointment before he smiled. _I need you, Imzadi,_ he told her and he knew that she had heard him.

When he entered her again she was ready for the pleasure that came with it. They were both completely at the mercy of the other as Will brought his hand to her clit and manipulated it gently until she was ready to come with him. He felt the emotion of it before the physical effects of her climax and with one more hard thrust; he careened over the edge with her.

They held one another tight as they gasped for air, like they had been drowning. Slowly their breathing returned to normal, but neither of them made any move to untangle their naked bodies. Will reached down and grabbed the sheet and pulled it over the two of them. As time began to tick by, the silence became complete; their minds slowly began to close to one another; the intense all consuming nature of their bond fading into the night. It was a sensation that was overwhelming and impractical as a permanent occurrence. It was the scarcity of it that lent to its intimacy.

They could still feel the contented glow from one another, even as other emotions began to creep in. Self-consciousness, fatigue, even pain. Deanna thought about that for a moment. Their emotions were so interwoven she was having trouble distinguishing his from hers, but she was fairly certain that she was not in pain. She wrinkled her nose and forehead as she looked up from where her head rested listening to the steady pound of his

heart.

_Does your head hurt? _She asked him.

Will brought one hand to his forehead and rubbed slightly at the egg that remained there. She could see now that it was starting to bruise. But he only smiled and laughed slightly under his breath.

Deanna tucked her head back into its place on his chest and enjoyed the warmth of his body. The silence stretched on and Deanna felt his breathing become deeper and deeper. She could feel her own sense of fatigue creeping in on her and the contentment of being in her Imzadi's arms lulling her to sleep.

_Will, _she called out to him through the dying embers of their connection.

"Shh," he mumbled almost asleep, holding her tighter against him.

She let the silence continue and the link between them died away. Without it, she felt suddenly lonely, even wrapped against his naked body.

"I love you," she whispered into the silent room before she let the night overtake her and pull her into a deep, exhausted, contented sleep.


	20. Rescue 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Thank you Thank you for your patience. I re-wrote this too many times to count, but I finally got it to a point where I (maybe more importantly, Tikva) was happy. I hope you will feel the same way. I almost gave up! When the next one will be done, that's anyone's guess. This one almost drove me crazy!

**Chapter 20**

Will's eyes opened again at the sound of her voice. He didn't know how to react. Had she thought he was asleep? Would she have said it if she had known he was still awake lying tangled with her? He lay perfectly still, full of uncertainty. It wasn't long before Deanna's body was heavier against him. If she wasn't asleep, she was close.

_I love you, Imzadi,_ he responded to her hoping there was still some portion of the link that would let her subconscious hear his words and feel their sincerity.

Will glanced around the darkness of the room. The chair where he had slept just a short while before lay empty and disheveled. There was still a light on in the front room, but he didn't want to break the silence of her quarters to tell the computer to turn it off. It was so quiet, and had been for so long, with only an occasional word spoken vocally between them. Now there was only the soft gentle intake of Deanna's breaths, though he wouldn't dare to call it a snore. He could hear the low hum of the warp engines and the slight vibration that told him that the ship was running smoothly.

The pillow under his head smelled like Deanna's shampoo, as did the hair that lay trailing across his bare chest. It smelled like flowers and vanilla. He ran his hand along her spine, letting his fingertips take in the smooth warm skin as she lay against him. He looked again towards Deanna's front room where the light illuminated her door. Outside that door lay their whole world, their real life.

What had happened inside seemed to be like a piece of magic. But he knew it was fragile. They had let their emotions take control of them and it had created something beautiful and wonderful. But they had been in almost this same place before, standing on the edge of a life together until their real lives, duty and obligation had torn them apart.

What would happen to them in the glare of the morning light?

Could he call it therapy and walk away?

Could she?

Will tucked her tighter in his arms, knowing that this moment was as fragile as anything he had ever held.

"I love you," he said, this time out loud, to the woman wrapped in his arms. He fought against the desire to sleep, wanting to stay in that moment as long as possible, but eventually sleep claimed him and they slept calmly in one another's arms until morning came.

….

Will slowly awoke from his deep slumber. He heard noises around him, but couldn't distinguish what they were in his half awake state. He stretched every muscle from his neck to his toes before reaching out for Deanna and opening his eyes, but the bed was empty.

"Deanna?" Will called groggily sitting up in the bed.

He heard more rustling before Deanna emerged from her closet. Her hair was wet and she was wrapped in the same robe that they had left in a heap on the floor the night before.

"Hi," she said lightly. "I was just cleaning up a few things."

Will thought back to what her closet had looked like the night before and he couldn't help but smile.

"I didn't know what time your shift started this morning, so I took a shower already so I wouldn't be in your way," she told him as she walked towards the bed and sat on the edge at his feet.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"06:45."

Will laid back down on the pillow. "I don't have to be on the bridge until eight."

"Oh, good," Deanna said a bit awkwardly. She smoothed her robe over her knees nervously.

"Why are you up so early?" he asked, rolling onto his side to look at her.

Deanna only shrugged. She seemed too quiet, almost shy.

He reached out and covered her hand on her knee with his own. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Deanna tried to smile back at him, but she was so conflicted. She had felt so much from him in the night, but it didn't change the overall arrangement, that this wouldn't change their relationship...did it?

"Maybe we should have made some rules for the morning after," she said quietly.

"Are you afraid?" he asked her.

Deanna shook her head no.

"Are you sorry you did it?"

"No! No, I'm not sorry," she said looking back at him, wishing she could make him understand. "I just don't know what to do now."

"Awkward," Will sighed and Deanna nodded. Will looked back at her and smiled. "I don't feel awkward, Dea," he told her, holding her hand firmly. "And I'm not sorry."

Deanna smiled back at him and leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Okay," she said, hoping that she wasn't blushing. "Are you hungry? Can I get you some breakfast?"

Will rolled back onto his back and stretched again. "Famished, but I can get it," he told her, sitting up. He suddenly realized that he was naked under the sheet that was draped over him. He glanced over to where his pants were draped over the chair where he had been sleeping the night before. _Definitely out of reach,_ he thought, and then he looked back to where Deanna stood next to the bed.

She almost laughed. "Not awkward, huh?" she asked mockingly as she walked over and tossed him his clothes.

Will only smiled sheepishly. "Thank you," he said.

Deanna shook her head at him. "I'm getting breakfast," she told him as she headed out of the room. "I'm starved."

Will felt ridiculous for suddenly being so self-conscious. On the other hand, he could hear Deanna laughing in the other room, and he loved the sound of it. He quickly slipped on his pants and came out into the front room to join her. She had put fruit on the table as well as two glasses of orange juice and some toast and coffee.

"Do you want some eggs or something?" she asked glancing back over her shoulder.

Will had the unexpected instinct to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her, and kiss her neck, but he still couldn't tell where they stood. Where were they in this relationship?

"No, this is good," he said sitting at the table and digging into the food in front of him.

Deanna stood by the replicator and watched him eating for a while, before Will noticed and turned in his chair to face her. He put his piece of toast down. "What?" he asked, noticing the smile on her face.

Deanna shook her head. "Nothing," she said stepping back towards the table to join him. As she brushed past his chair, he reached out for her hand and held it tightly.

"What is it?" he asked curiously. Her coy smile was contagious and spread across his face as well.

"I like you being here," Deanna finally said quietly, her eyes on the floor.

Emotion welled up inside him, and he had to try to recapture some of the feelings from the night before. He pulled her closer to him, until she didn't have much choice but to sit on his lap. Black eyes met blue and he leaned toward her until his forehead was resting against hers, and he smiled.

"I like being here, with you, too," he told her. Her smile widened as she watched him.

"I should let you eat," Deanna said, pulling herself up to leave his lap, but Will held her firmly in place.

His own smile spread across his face as his hand let go of her wrist and slid behind her neck into her hair instead. He approached her lips slowly, giving her plenty of time to back away if she wanted to, but she kept her eyes locked firmly with his, a soft smile on her face.

When their lips met, it was light and tentative, exploring the other with caution. Deanna sighed when Will pulled away from her and that sound was what he had wanted to hear. He pulled her back into the chair with him as he covered her mouth again, kissing her firmly and passionately, as his tongue explored the curve of her lip. She parted her lips and returned the gesture and the fire between them was sparked again. Her hands caressed his back and shoulders as his mouth moved on to nibbling on her earlobe and neck.

"I thought you were hungry," she said trying not to giggle at the way his beard tickled her neck.

"I am," he whispered in her ear before nibbling on her earlobe,

Deanna sighed and let out a small giggle, brushing her hand along his beard and cheek.

"Will," she pleaded.

"Deanna," he moaned back to her, hoping that she wouldn't make him stop. He loved what he was doing and he didn't want to stop, ever. This was what he wanted. He wanted her, forever, just like this.

"Mhhh, Will…" she called out to him again as he kissed down her neck, pulling her robe out of his way as he trailed kisses over her shoulder and began licking and sucking on her collar bone.

Will pulled away and met her eyes expectantly. He waited to give her the opportunity for her to speak, but instead he only heard the tremble in her breathing. He thought briefly about throwing everything to the floor and making love to her right there on the table, but then he knew age had gotten the best of him. He had gotten practical somewhere along the line and the mess, not to mention the hard glass surface just didn't seem worth it. But he couldn't stop himself from playing a bit. With one movement he shifted Deanna off his lap and placed her on the edge of the table in front of him. He heard the clatter of his plate that she had sat on the edge of as it rattled back into place. The move surprised her, but she didn't seem frightened. She ran her hands along his bare shoulders and then down his chest.

There was a hint of doubt in her eyes, and he wondered if it mirrored his own. This would change things. There was no way to write this off as some form of therapy, not after last night. This was the line, the line between lovers and friends, and there was no going back. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment that seemed to stretch on as they decided their future.

"Imzadi," Deanna finally said softly, but before he could answer her she covered his mouth with hers in a searing powerful kiss.

Even before their lips parted, Will hands frantically flew to the front wrap of her robe and pulled them apart until his hands could roam over the smooth full skin of her breasts, his thumb grazing across her nipple, making her moan.

Deanna finally broke away, her head falling back as she tried to catch her breath. He pulled her body to him and closed his mouth over her breast and tantalized and teased at her flesh until she was trembling.

Then with no warning she pushed his shoulders away from her.

"Imzadi," he spoke quietly, hoping that he had not pushed her too far.

Deanna slid off her place on the table and stepped away from him as he watched her helplessly. She turned towards her bedroom and took several steps away from him. He didn't know what to do, or what he had done to make her so abruptly change her mind.

Then just as abruptly he watched as the robe she wore slid off her shoulders and fell down her back and to the floor, revealing her bare body. She looked back over her shoulder at him and smiled.

"Try to avoid the door jamb this time, would you?" she said teasingly and then continued on into her room.

Will almost sighed with relief and laughed all in one. Then he was on his feet. "Very funny," he told her as he followed her path.

Deanna laughed mercilessly until she felt his hands close over her hips from behind. For the first time that morning she felt the fear creep in. She tried not to stiffen too much against him. She didn't want his protection or his pity. She wanted to have fun.

But she found it was easy to relax into his touch as he brushed his thumb against the birthmark above her right hip.

"Don't ever remove it, okay?" he asked.

"Why?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Because I like it there."

"You like a lot of things," she said wiggling her eyebrows.

Will playfully pushed her onto the bed and she squealed. It wasn't anything like the night before. It wasn't slow or loving. It was light hearted, even a bit rougher than Will would have ever anticipated. They were laughing and teasing one another with words and touch, like the familiar lovers that they once were, and when it was over they lay next to each other flat on their backs on the bed, panting and gasping for air.

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, Deanna called out to him. "Will?"

"Mhh, Dea,"

"Will," she said more earnestly. "It's 07:54."

"Damn," he said, and he was up and heading into the bathroom. "I'm gonna be late," she heard him call.

Deanna lay on the bed alone for another minute. She heard the shower turn on and could feel Will's churning emotions emanating from the room. There was a jumble of emotions that she chose to ignore, knowing and being familiar with the feel of his thoughts, but there was one emotion that she couldn't ignore or justify. It was remorse and it made that nagging in Deanna's stomach scream out.

She quietly got up and dressed in her uniform, ran a brush through her hair and pulled it away from her face. She quickly put on her make up wondering what they would say to each other when he got out of the shower. They had crossed the line and she didn't know how she had let it happen, why he had let it happen if he didn't want it to. _Because he wanted to have sex, you idiot. He warned you, he told you how he felt about it, and you wanted him to do it anyway. _Maybe it would be easier if she were already gone when he got out. She could sense that he was frustrated with himself. Maybe he didn't really know what to say to her either.

"Counselor Troi, report to Sickbay," Beverly Crusher's voice cut through the room.

Deanna scrambled to find her COM badge. "On my way," she said quickly, grateful for the excuse to run away. She peaked her head into the bathroom. "Will," she called.

"I'm late, I know," he called to her as he turned off the shower.

"That was Beverly. She needs me in Sickbay. I have to go."

Will peaked his head out, rubbing his hair with a towel, and looked at her uncertainly. "Deanna," he said seriously.

"I have to go, and you're late," she reminded him.

"Don't you think we should talk?" he asked tentatively. "About this?"

Deanna nodded half-heartedly. "We will."

"When?"

"I don't know. I have to go," she said distractedly

"Tonight?" he asked as she turned to walk away.

"Sure," she said lifelessly. "I have to go." She left Will Riker standing in her bathroom drying off and headed out of her quarters, her own conflicting emotions filling her mind.

…

Deanna walked into Sickbay and found Beverly Crusher waiting for her outside the door of a private room.

"Good morning Beverly. What can I do for you?" Deanna asked assuming that she had been paged to assist in some sort of crisis.

"Well you could show up on schedule. You bailed out on me this morning," Beverly told her rather tersely, but Deanna only looked back at her confused.

"When you had your menstrual cycle, we said we would follow up in one month. We made an appointment for this morning at 07:45…" Beverly tried to jog her memory.

Deanna let her happy façade fade away. She was swarming with emotions about everything that had just happened and most of all how Will had felt in the end. She had completely forgotten that she had made an appointment with Beverly, and it was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

"I'm sorry, Beverly. I forgot. But I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me anymore."

Beverly reached out and rested her hand on Deanna's elbow. " Deanna, I should check for residual scar tissue. If it's there, I could remove it easily. But if it grows…well, it could be very painful. It will only take a minute." Beverly was trying to reassure her, but Deanna just wanted to leave. She knew her friend well enough to know that she would not approve of what she had done.

"There's no scar tissue. Nothing hurts."

Beverly sighed. "Well it's not something that you'd feel on a daily basis. Just let me do a quick exam, come on."

"Maybe we could reschedule," Deanna suggested. The last thing she wanted her friend to see on an exam was that she had been sexually active recently…very recently.

But Beverly ignored her and dragged her by the elbow into the room, directing her to sit on the bed so she could begin her scans with the tircorder. Deanna was nervous and felt awkward, unsure of what would show on a scan. She shifted uncomfortably on the table, unable to look her friend in the eye as she did her work.

"Hmm," Beverly finally grunted and she scrunched up her face. "Deanna, I think I'd better do a vaginal exam."

Deanna leapt off the bed. If Beverly did a vaginal exam there would be no hiding what she had done.

"No, Beverly. Don't bother. I'm fine."

"Deanna," Beverly sounded shocked. "There's something on this scan. Let's take a look at it."

"I'm fine."

"Counselor-"

Deanna pulled away from Beverly's outstretched arm. "NO!" she almost shouted. Then she lowered her voice. "I'm fine, Beverly. I promise."

"Why are you acting this way?" Beverly asked her, highly concerned.

"Beverly, please…"

"I could give you an order."

"It's my life and my body. It's my choice." Deanna looked around for the best way to exit the room. "I have patients," she lied. "I have to go."

…

Commander Riker stepped onto the bridge exactly fourteen minutes behind schedule and his captain rose to meet him.

"Do you have a head wound, Number One?" the captain asked gruffly.

"Sir, I apologize. I was…delayed. It won't happen again."

The captain looked at him with his best questioning expression. "That too," he said intrigued.

"I'm sorry?" Will asked his captain.

Captain Picard pointed at his own forehead and then at the forehead of his first officer. "Your head," he said slowly. "Are you alright?"

Will raised his hand to his forehead and lightly touched where his head had slammed into Deanna's door jamb. He tried to pull his hair down over what obviously was a fairly good-sized bruise. The captain continued to watch him, puzzled.

"Ah…Sports injury?" Will offered with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Captain Picard gave a halfhearted nod as he stifled a chuckle.

"Captain, we have the coordinates for the Torsian trade outpost," Data interjected. And with that, they turned back to the work ahead of them.

Will tried throughout the day to maintain his focus, but there were those lulls in activity where his mind wandered. He didn't like the way they had left things. It seemed too ambiguous and he got the feeling that something was wrong. It was the look on Deanna's face, the way she hadn't kept eye contact, the lack of any sort of a smile.

Something was wrong and he didn't know what it was or when it had happened. Maybe he should have held her more after that morning's activities. He knew that it was still a challenge for her to relax and surrender that much control. As pleasurable as he was sure it was, it had seemed to have left her unsettled, vulnerable, and he had left her. He'd gotten up and jumped in the shower without a reassuring word or touch. He shook his head with disappointment in himself. He should have known better. He should have thought about it. But it had been so unexpected, the way that they had come back together that morning. What did it mean? What did it all mean?

It was supposed to be therapy. It was supposed to leave their friendship unchanged. He had wondered if that would be possible, and now in the morning light, he knew it wasn't. Something had happened, and it had changed everything. That first time, that awkward, erratic, first time filled with tears and uncertainty - that had been therapy. He knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

But that next time…in the middle of the night, he was less sure of. There definitely seemed to be things that she was trying to prove, to herself, to him. But there had been something more, something deeply emotional, even spiritual between them. There were no more secrets. They loved each other. And they knew the other felt the same way. It was a feeling of being complete that he couldn't quite articulate.

But this morning, to call that therapy would have been a stretch. It was…hot and fun. It wasn't cautious like it had been. It was spontaneous; playful…it was sex like lovers had. There was a sense of comforting familiarity between them that let them enjoy one another like that.

So what now? Was it really possible that they could start from here? Could they start from where they had been this morning at breakfast? Or had something happened this morning that he didn't know about? He wished he could have talked to her, could have slipped away from the bridge for a moment to find her and get a sense of her mood.

He missed her. The smell of her, the sight of her, he thought as he stared at her empty chair on the other side of the captain. He missed everything about her. He missed having her on the bridge with him; how he could tell a joke, knowing she was the only one who would really get it. He missed the scrunchy face she made when she sensed an unusual emotion from someone around her, and how he would try to get her to tell him who it had come from by the slight jerk of his head in the direction of one of the colleagues, how she would furrow her eyebrows in disapproval and shake her head slightly. Then he would try another officer, and she would get more exasperated.

It was like a game they played, a game only they knew, and he loved it. He loved watching her get more and more exasperated with him, until she would slyly try to kick him when no one was looking. He missed spending the days with her, in any capacity and he wondered what she would say if he told her he wanted to wake up with her every morning like he had that morning and eat breakfast with her, to fall asleep with her in his arms. Would she let him in, or would she push him away? And was she really ready for all of this, with all she had been through?

By the time the staff meeting was scheduled to begin, all he could think about was his shift being over and tracking her down. He knew they needed to talk out a lot of things. But first, he had to get through this meeting, and he needed to focus.

The senior staff wandered into the observation lounge, slowly making their way to their chairs, the captain in the lead. The aft door opened and Dr. Crusher and Commander Laforge joined the group.

Everyone was milling around, until Dr. Crusher called out.

"Commander Riker, what happened to your head?" She walked towards him and began to examine the bruise on his forehead in spite of his protests and attempts to wiggle away.

He doubted that the doctor would buy the sports injury line he had used earlier. He was fairly certain the captain hadn't either.

"Why didn't you come into Sickbay and have someone take a look at this? We could have at least controlled the swelling," she told him tersely. She looked over the injury again. "What did you do?" she asked again.

Will sighed heavily. "I walked into a wall," he mumbled, hoping the others wouldn't hear. But the room quickly fell silent.

"You did what?" she asked.

"I- walked- into – a _– wall_!" Will said exasperated and giving up on maintaining his pride. He heard the doctor stifle a chuckle.

"Did the wall jump out at you from nowhere?" Geordi asked, and Will could hear the smile in his voice.

He cast him a sardonic look, until the doctor quickly turned his head away from the others to continue her examination.

"Perhaps the wall was cloaked in some way," Worf offered, but Will could even detect the sarcasm in the Klingon's tone. He finally pulled away from the doctor's grasp and scowled at Worf, who vainly tried to hide his grin.

With a heavy sigh he turned back to the captain, as if to plead for mercy. The captain was fighting against his own mirth, but he granted his first officer's request.

"Let's begin, shall we?" he said taking his seat and the rest of the group followed suit. The briefing was intense and full of details that they all needed to know to get them through the mission ahead of them.

"I do not like this," Worf finally concluded as the briefing neared its end. "It feels like a trap."

"It may well be, Lieutenant," the captain responded. "But if it is, we will walk into it with our eyes wide open. The Torsian's have long been an ally and I'm not about to change their side in the history books without a good effort."

"And if it is a trap?" Worf asked.

Commander Riker turned to the security chief and spoke. "Then we'll need to make sure we're ready to fight our way out of it," he told him, and the two exchanged a knowing nod.

"In six hours we will slow to impulse," the captain ordered.

"Sir, if we drop out of warp, it will take us an additional three days, 7 hours, 14 minutes to reach the Torsain system," Data informed him.

"Yes, Mr. Data. I am well aware of the additional time. However I believe that it will be worth it if our approach is not viewed as hostile or threatening."

He looked around for the general approval of the group of people who surrounded him. "That will be all," he told them and the officers began to disperse. Will's first thought was that he could finally track down Deanna and get rid of the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

But before he could even stand from his chair, the captain spoke again. "Doctor, Number One… could I have a word please?"

Doctor Crusher turned back from where she stood near the door, and nodded before rejoining the men at the table, across from Commander Riker. The three waited for the room to empty before Captain Picard spoke again.

"Before Lieutenant Soto left, she recommended that I seek both your advise as to when and how to reinstate Counselor Troi to full duty."

Will felt his anxiety rise, especially when he saw a scowl cross the doctor's face.

"And as I consider more about this upcoming mission, I realize more and more the value of having a counselor on the bridge when we make contact." Captain Picard looked back and forth between the two officers sitting with him at the table. "Any opinions? Input?"

"I think that…"

"Well, in my opinion…" the two of them began at the same time, and then they both stopped. Finally, Will gestured for Beverly to continue.

"Captain, I know that we all want Deanna to return to work, but I don't think she's ready. I wish Lieutenant Soto hadn't left. I'm still very concerned about her."

"Would you care to articulate your concerns?" the captain asked.

Beverly shrugged her shoulders. "Well, for starters, she had an appointment with me in Sickbay this morning and to say that her behavior was erratic might be an understatement."

"Why was she in Sickbay? Is she alright?" Will asked before he could stop himself.

Beverly looked over at him and took a moment to register his concern. "It was just a follow up appointment," she told him before turning back to the captain.

"Erratic?" the captain repeated.

"I have to disagree, Sir," Will offered. "I think she's been making excellent progress."

Beverly huffed from her chair.

Will looked back at her. "You disagree?"

"Well, I certainly don't think she's all better," Beverly replied.

"I didn't say that she was all better. I said she was making progress."

"Progress isn't enough to say that she should go back to bridge duty. You of all people know how stressful that can be."

"I'm not saying it won't be stressful. What I am saying is that she deserves the opportunity…" but Beverly interrupted him.

"I know, I know. Don't pull the rug out from under her now. Well, maybe she needs the rug tussled a little bit. You can't always just hope she'll pull though it, just because occasionally she does."

"She has been pulling through it," Will said defensively. "She's working to conquer her fears…What do you want from her?"

"Maybe I just want _you_ to acknowledge that she has fears that she is struggling with," Beverly told him tersely.

The captain stepped in to interrupt their sparring. "Are there problems that need to be addressed?" he asked them both.

"No," Will answered.

"Yes," Beverly said almost simultaneously. She almost glared at the first officer. "What, and I bet she didn't have a problem eating either."

"We've been through this already!" Will asked, his defenses fully in force.

"Worf said she threw up!" Beverly shouted back at him.

"What?" Will asked again, confused. "When?"

"That night after the poker game…you all had dinner in Ten forward. Worf said he went to check on her after she left the table and when she came out of the restroom, she looked like she had just vomited."

"When did he tell you that?" he asked accusingly.

"The next morning. He was concerned about her. And quite frankly, he didn't know if you could be objective about it."

"Objective? He didn't think _I_ could be objective?" Now he was just bordering on angry.

There was a long pause between the three of them, before Beverly spoke again. "Do you think you're objective about this, Will?"

The captain was also looking at him expectantly and Will tried not to look flustered. "She hit a rough spot, but she talked through it," he told them calmly. "Don't you see her doing better about it?"

"That's not my point," Beverly cried.

"Then what is your point? You want her to be perfect, to not have any fears? That's not practical."

"I'm not saying..."

"She deserves the opportunity to try," Will said firmly.

"I'm not saying that she doesn't. All I'm saying is to use some caution. She's out there all alone now, no therapist to talk things through with. I think there might be better ways to introduce her back to full duty than right into a touchy, if not outright volatile situation!" Beverly shouted at him.

"She has me!" Will hollered back at her before he realized what he had said. "She has all of us," he said more reserved.

"But is that enough?" the captain asked calmly.

Beverly didn't answer. She was staring at Commander Riker, her forehead creased in deep thought as she studied him. Will looked away, uncomfortable under her gaze.

"Doctor, I appreciate your opinion," the captain told her. "But I do agree with Commander Riker. Lieutenant Soto seemed to think that she had made a breakthrough and that she was, in fact, addressing her fears."

"I think now is as good a time as any, Sir." Will told him, turning to look at Captain Picard, rather than to make eye contact with the doctor studying him so thoroughly. He continued, "The potential complications are a known that she can prepare for, whereas at other times the risks are the unknown. I think she could be an asset when we enter Torsian space."

The captain sat silently for a moment considering the opinions from his officers. Beverly was still glaring at his first officer, her eyebrows furrowed, slightly shaking her head. It seemed like a light had gone off in her head, that she suddenly understood something he did not. "Is there anything else, Doctor?" he asked her.

She didn't meet his gaze, but kept her eyes locked steadily on the commander across from her. "What she needs is stability…consistency. A fling right now to test the waters, it would break her," she said firmly.

Will's eyes flew back to meet her's, the shock evident on his face. She continued to look at him with cold determination. It was clear that she knew. He didn't know how, but she knew. Maybe she had just figured it out. Will quickly looked back to his captain to see if he had understood her words as clearly, but found a confused look on his face as he looked at his chief medical officer.

"I think we all understand that she is looking for consistency, Doctor," Captain Picard said shortly.

Beverly arched an eyebrow at Will as if to make sure that he had understood her meaning.

"Are you saying that you do not believe that the bridge can give her that consistency? It is certainly not my intention to test her." Captain Picard concluded.

"I'm saying we _all_ need to be careful," Beverly said without looking away from the first officer.

Will sighed and finally looked down at his hands where they rested on the table. He didn't need the lecture to make him feel guilty. He was already kicking himself. And sitting there with the captain watching him was excruciating. He couldn't even defend himself.

The captain gave a quick nod before turning to his first officer. "Number One, please review the shield and weapons configurations with Lieutenant Worf, before you leave the bridge. I'll need some time to think about this issue further."

"Aye, Sir." Will responded before rising from his chair and heading off towards the bridge. He gave one last look back at the door, back to where the doctor remained in her seat, back to where he could have left to find Deanna, but his duty wasn't done for the day, so he turned back and did as his captain requested.

….

The captain watched as Beverly Crusher made no attempt to move, watching as the first officer left the room. "Is there something else, Doctor?"

She stayed quiet, as if some sort of internal debate was taking place in her mind.

"Doctor?"

"Jean Luc," she began, as if requesting the right to speak freely.

"Beverly?"

"I think he means well. Well, I hope he means well."

"I have no reason to doubt his opinion, even if it differs from yours," he cautioned her. He watched as her facial expression darkened again. "Do you?" he asked cautiously.

Again Beverly paused and looked around the room. "Let's just say I also question his objectivity," she answered.

Jean Luc Picard stood from his chair and offered his hand to his friend to help her from her chair. "They are very close," he told her, but Beverly shook her head. "Are you telling me that you question his judgment?"

"About this? Maybe," she admitted slowly.

"That is a harsh statement," he said, honestly surprised with how far she was taking this. "Would you care to explain?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not without talking to Deanna."

"Doctor," he said sternly, forcing the conversation back to a more formal level. "If something happened that I need to know about…"

Beverly considered how much she knew, and how much was a guess. But the look on Will's face had spoken volumes. "It may be nothing," she told him.

"Or,"

Beverly shrugged slightly. "Has he said anything to you?" she asked. "About _them_?"

"_Them_?" The captain asked, a puzzled look playing on his features. "No. Why? Is there a _them_?" he asked. His mind was replaying a conversation from years before, and then suddenly the way his first officer had acted the day before when leaving the bridge came back to his mind.

"I don't know," Beverly answered him. "I don't know that _he_ knows. Maybe that's what frightens me. But with the way Deanna reacted this morning…I'm willing to bet that there's something happening there that _we_ are not party to."

"And I take it that you think this would be detrimental to Deanna's well being."

"If it's just some momentary…" Beverly struggled to find an appropriate word, but the captain raised his hand for her to stop. He didn't need further clarification. He was well aware of the way that his first officer chose to live his personal life, and the message of warning his chief medical officer was trying to convey. "I know that you don't want to be involved with the personal lives of your crew, Jean Luc, but you can't just always turn a blind eye."

"Thank you, Doctor," he said, realizing, he sounded terser than he had intended.

"What are you going to do?" she asked him.

"About Counselor Troi?" he clarified, and she nodded. "I still don't know that I disagree with him," he told her, but he also realized that he needed to understand his first officer's motivations.

The two of them stood in the room for a while longer in silence. "Well, I should go," Beverly finally told him awkwardly.

"Yes. Thank you, Doctor," he told her, though part of him was lost in his own thoughts.

With a small nod, Beverly turned and headed for the door. She looked discouraged, or worried. Concerned, he finally decided. "Beverly," he called out to her and she turned to face him again.

"Thank you," he told her. He was grateful for her insight, though he didn't care for what she had told him. But she was not one for idle gossip. What she had done, she had done out of genuine concern. She smiled weakly at him and nodded again before heading out the door.

….

Will stood with Worf at one of the Bridge's science stations going over shield configurations when the captain burst back into the room. He looked sternly around the Bridge before he spoke. "Number one," he called and with a jerk of his head indicated that he was to follow him.

Will fell into step behind his Captain as they headed for his ready room. With every step his stomach sank. He had already decided that if he asked, he would not lie to his captain, but he was really hoping not to have the conversation at all, or at least not yet. He wanted to talk to Deanna. He needed to talk to Deanna, and yet with every passing moment he seemed to be loosing some of that connection that he had felt from her.

"Sit down, Number One," the captain said firmly as he continued around the edge of his desk.

Will obediently obliged, with only one look back at the door that was now closing him off from the public safety of the bridge. The captain took his seat behind his desk and stared at him. Will knew that he wanted to look stern, but he knew him well enough to see his discomfort and he wondered whichof them wanted to be doing this less.

"I would like you to tell me your motivations for wanting Counselor Troi back on the Bridge."

Will raised his eyebrows, involuntarily. That hadn't been the question that he had been expecting. "Sir?" he asked.

"I want to know whose best interests you are thinking of?"

Will floundered for an answer. "Yours, I suppose. The crew's…her's. May I ask why you are asking?"

"I need to know it's not _yours_," the captain said simply. "I need to know that you _believe_ that."

Will thought for a moment of how he had been wishing that she were on the Bridge earlier that afternoon, how it made _him_ happy, how_ he_ liked having her near by, and it made him pause and consider the captain's question. "Have I done something to make you question my intentions, Sir?"

The captain leaned back in his chair and looked back at him skeptically. "I think that is a question I need you to answer for me," he told him.

Will sat silently staring at his mentor, hurt by what he had implied.

Captain Picard broke the silence. "Are you dating her?" he asked almost hopefully. "Or is this just…"

_Beverly ratted me out,_ he thought, wondering why she couldn't for once mind her own business.

"I don't know," Will said quietly, looking down at his hands as they rested on his knees.

"You don't know?" the captain repeated, genuinely surprised and frustrated by his answer.

"I need to talk to her."

"Isn't that something that you would typically do at some point before this?" Captain Picard asked frustrated.

"I…it's complicated." He heard the captain almost groan in frustration. "Sir," Will tried again, straightening up in his chair.

"What are you doing, Will?What could you possibly have been thinking? You! You know better than anyone on this ship, what she has been through. Why? And for god's sake, why now?"

"It's not like that," Will said discouraged, his eyes back on his knees.

"Oh?"

"Sir, she needed a friend. She needed to conquer the fear."

"But,"

Will shrugged. "But I don't know what, but something…happened, changed."

The captain huffed and he tugged on his uniform tunic as he rose from his chair and began pacing behind his desk. "Commander, do you remember a conversation that you and I had almost eight years ago when you first told me of your previous relationship with our ship's counselor?"

Will nodded solemnly. "Yes Sir. I do."

"And do you remember what you promised me?"

Will cleared his throat. "I told you that my relationship with Deanna was over, and that if that were to ever change, I would let you know."

"I have no desire to dig through the personal lives of my crew," Captain Picard began.

"I know that, Sir. It was never about that."

"You are my first officer, and she is my most trusted advisor. You sit on either side of me on the bridge, and if there is something going on that has even the potential of affecting the way that this ship functions…"

"I understand, Sir."

The captain sighed and sat back in his chair. "So what now, Number One?"

"I don't know, Sir. We haven't had the time to figure that out." The two of them fell into silence for a moment as they both avoided each other's eyes. "I love her," Will finally admitted.

"I know. I've known that for a long time, I suppose," Captain Picard confessed. After another long pause the captain began to reminisce. "You know, it took you almost three weeks to come to me and tell me about you and Deanna."

Will finally looked up to find a surprisingly amused look on his commanding officer's face.

"You know I already knew, right?"

"You knew? You let me stand there, fumbling for words when you already knew?"

The captain nodded, a slight grin crossing his face as he remembered the scene.

"Well you sure didn't make it any easier on me."

"Why should I have?" Captain Picard asked, defensively.

"How did you know?"

"Deanna told me."

Will's eyes opened wide with surprise. "She did? When?"

"While we were in orbit above Farpoint Station."

Will almost laughed. "So you had known the whole time."

The captain nodded. "Well, for the better part of three weeks at least."

"And what did she tell you?" Will asked, almost afraid of the answer.

The captain sighed again, thinking back. "She told me that you two had had an affair, that it was over and that it wouldn't affect either of your work. I remember I asked her if she was certain of that, and she said she was, that you had both made your choices."

"Yeah," Will said with a sad nod.

"And now?" the captain asked. "What choices will you make now?" he asked honestly.

The two men locked for a moment in a stare before Will nodded and stood. "I _will_ keep the promise I made to you Sir. And when I have an answer to your questions, you'll be the first to know. Well, maybe the third," he said with a shrug.

"Third would be acceptable, as long as the two before me are you and Deanna." The captain stood and reached for Will's arm. "Number One," he called. "I care too much about her to take this lightly."

"So do I, Sir," Will said and with a nod, he headed out the door

….

Deanna sat in her office long after her last patient had gone, looking around at the decorations she had placed around the room. She had done her best to stay focused on the five patients she had seen that day, but occasionally her mind had wandered. Of all the voices in her head from the crewmembers that surrounded her, it was the first officer's thoughts that were the loudest, crying out over the din.

He had been on the bridge most of the day. She could always tell. He was more on guard there, more than anywhere else on the ship. Knowing exactly where he was came as a bit of a relief. She couldn't have kept her focus at all if she thought he might come barging in at any moment. But almost imperceptibly, she had kept a running barometer on his mood.

About an hour before, she was glad that she was no longer working because she'd felt a sharp shift in his emotions. What he was feeling now was purely guilt and confusion. Those had been part of the blend all day, but something had happened to bring them to the forefront. She sat in her office, impatiently waiting on her couch. She knew he would come, and she wanted to choose the location. It was easier here in her office. This was the place where it was easiest for her to concentrate on others, or on the facts in front of her rather than her own emotions. This room was the safe place to have this conversation, because she could already hear his argument in her head.

It's just bad timing_,_

_It is always bad timing with us. We are victims of perpetually bad timing._

Yes, I love you, but I can't give you what you need. She could hear it now, and it made her want to cry.

How could she have done this? How could she have let this happen? She knew better. She knew better than to loose control again and fall into the emotion of it. She couldn't let him reject her again. She couldn't let him hurt her like that. She had to protect herself, distance herself. She couldn't let him get that close. Why had she ever let down her defenses like that? It all would have been okay if she had just done what she was supposed to do, to take part physically and leave emotion at the door. Or better yet, not have asked him at all.

She stood back up and began to pace the room, wringing her hands in one another. It was only a matter of time until he came to find her, to tell her that this was a bad idea. She knew what she had to do to protect herself. She had to beat him to it. _Maybe I should find him,_ she thought, but before she could make a choice the chime rang on the door and she knew it was her turn to put some distance between them once again.

Deanna walked as far from the door as she could before she called for him to come in. Her hands were calm at her sides. She tried to give no indication of her inner turmoil.

"Will," she called, as if she had been surprised in some way. "Come in." The words leaving her mouth sounded oddly like a death sentence.

Will Riker walked into the room as if it were also a trap of some kind, slowly studying her, trying to predict her behavior. "I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you earlier. I was on the Bridge all day," he told her.

"I know," she said simply, not moving from her position near the corner.

Will looked up and nodded. "Right," he said, realizing that she had been keeping mental watch on him.

He slowly eased himself onto her sofa, uninvited, and waited for her to speak. But Deanna just continued to glance around the room calmly.

"Deanna," he began. "About last night…or this morning, I guess…"

"Which one?" she asked evenly. "Last night? Or this morning?"

Will pursed his lips and blew out the sigh that he held deep in his chest. She clearly was not going to make this easy. "Both I suppose. I'm sorry about how I left. I didn't mean…"

"I left," she corrected him. "I left before you."

He hadn't actually realized that. Somehow it seemed like he had been the one to do the leaving. "True, but…"

Finally Deanna left her corner retreat and stepped towards him. "I really should be thanking you," she said with as much confidence as she could drag to the surface. "I know that this was hard for you, and you stayed the night when you really didn't have to. You are a great friend and I'll always be grateful for that."

She was smiling, but her words hung in the air like a bad odor. It took a long moment for Will to absorb the message that they carried into his psyche. Finally his face scowled. "Deanna, you can't seriously be saying…"

But Deanna stood perfectly still. "I'm saying thank you," she told him. "We talked about this before hand. We had clear expectations. And I'm grateful for what you did for me. I believe it was effective therapy, and that when I am faced with the situation again, I think I will handle it much better. This was a success, Will." She waited for him to respond, but he sat there looking back at her utterly confused. "Why aren't you happy? I thought you wanted me to conquer my fears?"

"I did," Will answered her. "Deanna, that's…I…" He scooted forward on her couch towards her. He thought about reaching out for her hand, but the stern look that lingered on her face made him rethink that. "Deanna, are you honestly telling me that…that was it?…therapy?"

Deanna tried her best not to falter, even as she felt her heart start to break. "What else would it be? I told you I wasn't asking anything from you. I wouldn't change that now."

Will kept looking more and more confused. How could she be standing there telling him this? Was this how she really felt? "I…" he fumbled. "What was that this morning then? That was therapy for you?"

"Why?" Deanna asked. "Did I do something to indicate otherwise?"

Will felt his frustration growing. "Damn it, Deanna. Drop the clinical act, please!" He hollered, standing to join her. He hadn't wanted to, but he was clearly the first to get emotional. "That wasn't therapy. You know it. I know it." Deanna shook her head and turned and began to walk away from him. "You said you loved me," he called out to her.

She froze.

"You _told_ me you loved me. You said it out loud, but you didn't have to. I could feel it…here," he said pointing to his heart. "And here," he said pointing to his head.

Deanna spun around. There was just the slightest shine to her eyes, but her voice was firm. It was easier this way. It was better to stop it here and now than risk everything. "Of course I love you, Imzadi. You know that. It's certainly not the first time I've told you that. But there are many forms of love."

"No," Will said shaking his head. "No. That is not what you meant, and I know it. It wasn't a 'thanks, I love you'. Why are you doing this, Dea? Why are you pushing me away?"

"Will, I'm sorry if I gave you the impression…" but Will cut her off. He took her hand and held it tight, even when she tried to tug it away.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her softly.

Deanna tried to pull her hand away from him, but he was determined to not let her go. "Please let me go," she finally whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

Will reluctantly let go of her, not wanting to frighten or hurt her. "Deanna," he whispered.

"Will, this really isn't the time. I mean for this… you and me," she gestured back and forth between them. "I'm not ready. I've been through too much…I can't just jump in…" her words echoed his thoughts.

He couldn't stop himself. Her lips were so close, and he could remember the taste of her so easily. If he could just recapture the moment…He leaned down and kissed her firmly, pulling her close to him. For a moment she didn't fight, but then she came to her senses and pulled away.

"I can't," she murmured.

"I'm not leaving until…"

"No. Will, no. I can't,"

"You're afraid," he said simply.

"Will," she pleaded.

"You're afraid, and I understand why. I know it's hard to forget how things ended before. But I'm not going to let you push me away that easily."

"You are smothering me!" Deanna finally shouted, desperately.

Will stepped backwards, shocked by her words. He stared at the tears in her eyes, and he felt them in his own. "Deanna,"

"You can't fix me," she continued her tirade. "I appreciate your help, but some things I have to do alone."

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"Because this is _my_ problem. I don't need a knight in shining armor. You can't come rescue me on some white horse. I don't need a hero, Will. I just need you to leave me alone!"

Will was stunned speechless for a moment as he watched her lashing out at him. Of all the conversations he had practiced in his head during the day, this wasn't one of them. Part of him could feel that there was no sincerity behind her words, but they stung all the same. She was pushing him away, trying to hide from him.

"You know if you spent half the time getting well as you spent pretending you were well, you'd be back to work by now," he said before the thought had completely formed in his mind. It was angrier than he had intended it to be, and he immediately regretted it.

Her eyes were cold as she looked back at him. "I think you should go," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Will reached out for her, desperate to take back what he had said. "No, Deanna…"

But Deanna took a step back and put even more space between them. "Leave," she said with more conviction.

"I'm sorry. Let me be there for you."

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help."

Will rolled his eyes. "Dea," he began, but she cut him off.

"Get out," she said firmly. When he took a step closer to her, she pulled back again and raised her voice. "Get out!" she cried.

Will stood helpless, torn. Her eyes were fierce with determination. But there was something else hiding in her dark eyes, fear. He didn't know what to do. With each approach she recoiled more. How had this happened? They had been so…so…

"We were so close," he told her, his head hung in frustration.

"Life doesn't work that way. You can't change the past," she told him and then she turned away from him, towards her desk.

"You know if you push everyone away, you're going to find that you're all alone, even when you don't want to be."

"You don't understand," she told him.

Something inside him snapped. "No, I'm sure I don't. But that's the way you want it, right? Just share the pieces you want to when you want to, nothing more? Always on your terms…"

She spun back around to face him, her eyes still cold, her face dark. "I said get out."

"Fine," he said. "When you decide to let someone in, let me know."

"Maybe if you're not occupied by someone else. I'm sure there's someone in Engineering that would be more than happy to occupy your time," she said coldly.

He had started towards the door, but paused with her words. He thought about defending himself, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. He wasn't going to change her mind. He shook his head. "It didn't have to be this way," he said softly and without another word, he walked out the door.

As the doors to her office closed, Deanna sank to her knees, tears pouring down her cheeks, deep sobs coming from her chest. Was it better to hurt now rather than the hurt coming later? She wished it didn't have to be this way, but it did. She knew what he was feeling, even if he wasn't ready to admit it. He wasn't ready, didn't want this. He didn't love her, he felt responsible for her and that was something entirely different. It had all been an illusion, like a memory from long ago. "But you can't live in a memory," she said to herself as she sat on her office floor.

….

Will stormed back into the corridor, fuming. How had that happened? How had he let her ambush him like that? He should have seen it coming, should have prepared better for it.

She knew…she knew just how to get to him, to make him angry and defensive. Every word that she had said was crafted to elicit a specific emotional response, and he had delivered exactly what she had wanted. He had lost his cool, raised his voice and lashed out with words designed in equal measure to hurt her. That was, after all, exactly what she had expected. Why drag out the process by actually having a relationship when she could skip to her expected outcome from the beginning? If it had been a test, he failed it. If that was the way she really felt…well, he didn't know what to do about that.

He waited near the turbo lift and thought momentarily of going back, of telling her what he had planned to tell her. After all, what could it hurt? But her words came back to him. '_You're smothering me!'_ she had told him.

Was he smothering her?

Why was he always so anxious to be there, to never let her hurt alone?

Was it because he still felt guilty?

Did he want to swoop in on the white horse?

For the first time in months, maybe years he really paused to think about his motives in what he wanted from her. He was tired. He was tired of being the one waiting, hoping for an opportunity. Maybe it was her turn. If he were smothering her, then he'd give her some space. _Fine_, he thought as he stepped into the lift.

He didn't know where he was going so for a while he just stood there, lost in his thoughts, replaying the argument over and over in his head.

"State a destination," the computer finally prompted.

He thought about going to Ten forward, blowing off some steam…but his worst fear was that he would run into Charlotte Brown. Who knew, maybe she was mad at him, too. But maybe she wasn't and then what? No, he wouldn't risk it.

"Deck Eight," he called. It was better to just go home and lick his wounds. If Charlotte Brown was there, and was interested, it may have been a great stress reliever to not have to worry about where things stood for once, but he was damned if he would give Deanna Troi the satisfaction of being right.

_You know,_ he thought to himself as he stood alone in the descending lift. _Sometimes loving an empathic psychologist is a real pain in the ass. _


	21. Rescue 21

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters

**Chapter 21**

Captain Picard sat in his chair on the bridge, trying not to scowl as he listened to his first officer rail at the new lieutenant who sat at ops after a brief mistake at the controls.

Commander Riker had been quietly brooding for most of the morning, but his short temper with the crew was starting to concern his captain.

The captain had made an educated guess that things had not ended as well as his first officer had hoped they would when he had left his ready room the night before.

Captain Picard wasn't sure his night had been much better. He couldn't stop stewing over the situation. His first officer had, for some reason, decided that this was the right time to pursue a romantic relationship with his ship's counselor. His first officer and chief medical officer seemed to be having some sort of a feud on principle that he wasn't entirely sure he understood, and then there was his ship's counselor…

What was he to do with Deanna Troi?

The situation with Will Riker, whatever it was, made him doubt what he had assumed about the progress of her recovery. And whatever she had said or done to make his first officer so short with the bridge crew, only made him doubt more his idea of bringing her back to full duty.

It seemed to him that one of them should have been able to see the potential pitfalls, whatever fears she wanted to overcome. Though another part of him was happy that she was facing her fears. It was like a kaleidoscope. There were too many angles to look at, and it left him feeling confused and with a bit of a headache.

What he knew for sure was that they were now only two and a half days from crossing into Torsian space and he had a decision to make. And it _was_ his decision. He couldn't leave it to anyone else. What was he to do? What hadn't he considered? Then, as he watched his first officer stalk back to his chair and roughly sit down, it hit him. He had spoken to everyone, except the one person who he needed to. He needed to talk to Deanna Troi.

"Number One," the captain began as he rose from his chair and tugged at his uniform. "You have the bridge."

Without further explanation, Captain Picard strode to the turbo lift and went in search of his ship's counselor.

….

Deanna Troi sat at the desk in her office, sipping at a large mug of coffee that she had been refilling all day. The bitter smell of burnt beans filled her nostrils and she grimaced as she swallowed. She could think of things far more pleasant to drink.

When the chime of her office door sounded, Deanna looked around the room briefly. She was not expecting any more patients, and had been looking forward to returning to her quarters. But she could feel the urgency from her captain as he waited on the other side of the door. "Come in," she called as she placed the mug of coffee out of sight and stood to greet her guest.

Captain Picard stood tentatively in her office doorway.

"Captain," Deanna greeted him pleasantly. "Please come in."

"I don't wish to interrupt anything…" He was feeling suddenly awkward and unsure of his presence.

"Nonsense. I have seen my patients for the day. I was just finishing up a few things in my reports. What can I do for you?" Deanna gestured towards her couch and the captain reluctantly agreed. They sat down together and she began to study him, trying to determine his purpose. "Is there something wrong, Sir?" she asked apprehensively.

"No," he told her, trying to sound reassuring. "I simply realized that I have not seen very much of you in the last few weeks and I wanted to stop by, and…" he struggled with his words.

"You wanted to check up on me," Deanna finished matter of factly.

"No," Captain Picard said quickly. But under Deanna's gaze he tried again. "Perhaps."

The captain turned so he was facing her more directly. "How are you?" he asked with all sincerity.

"I'm fine, Sir." Deanna's answer was firm. She had been rehearsing it in her mind for most of the day, lest someone ask. "Captain, I sense a lot of tension from you. Would you like to talk about it?"

The captain felt himself smile. He hated being 'counseled', and yet he could see so much of Deanna's nature and training in her response. It gave him great hope.

"The mission to the Torsian delegation seems to have everyone a bit on edge, the nearer we draw to their space," she offered.

"It _is_ a potentially volatile situation," the captain confirmed.

Deanna nodded. "They often are," she reminded him, and he nodded in return.

She seemed so normal to him, so much like the counselor he had come to rely on. "I see that you have some knowledge of the mission that we are on," he said, beginning to feel more comfortable.

"Of course, Captain. I may not be on the bridge, but I have been working with the crew for several weeks now."

"And being close to the members of the senior staff?" he suggested.

Deanna tried her best to smile. "I have my own ways of staying in the loop, Sir."

The captain returned her smile. "Counselor, I have something I'd like to talk to you about."

Deanna nodded. He was ready to talk now.

"I've been meaning to see how the last few weeks have been for you, returning to seeing patients."

Deanna looked away, involuntarily, just for a moment. She didn't want to think about what she had done the night before. She tried to be strong as she looked back to her captain.

"It has been good for me, Sir. It was a nice way to ease back to work. I'm glad I had that opportunity."

"And Lieutenant Soto? When she left, I meant to ask you how you felt about that, but…"

"You have your own duties to attend to, Sir. I understand."

Captain Picard waited patiently for Deanna to answer the question he had not quite asked.

"I think we all understood that it was a temporary assignment. She did what she came to do and then she moved on. That is the way that life is in the profession she chose."

"I meant how _you _felt about her leaving. Did you feel…ready?" Captain Picard asked her hesitantly, groping for the right words.

Deanna tried to fight off the feelings of complete inadequacy that had plagued her all day. She swallowed hard against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, then nodded. "I am very grateful for the help that she offered. But I agree that she had done what she could and that she was ready to move on." She watched as the captain looked at her apprehensively.

"And so was I," she added.

"And now?" the captain asked.

"Captain, are you asking me how I feel about returning to full duty?" Deanna asked tentatively. She could feel the immediate surge of his emotions. He was nervous.

"It has been a little over two months… I don't wish to rush you. What would you feel to be an appropriate amount of time?" he asked cautiously.

Deanna tried to give him a reassuring smile. Perhaps if she were more relaxed, it would be easier for him. "I don't think there is a standard, Sir. It's not like three days off for a concussion, one for a broken leg…" Deanna almost laughed. "How many days off do you get for being raped and tortured?"

She immediately regretted what she had said, or at least the manner in which she had said it. She had worked to become comfortable with what had happened to her, trying to treat it as a matter of fact, but her captain was clearly uncomfortable. He shied away from her words, abruptly rising from his seat and turning to look at the room that surrounded him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Then he slowly sighed and brought his gaze back to the woman on the couch, as she looked at the hands that rested daintily in her lap.

"No," he responded firmly. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He again took his seat next to her. "Forgive me," he said simply. "I'm used to having you to guide me with things of this nature."

Deanna gave him a reassuring smile. He needed her to be strong for him through this. It was what she did. "I'm still here to help you, Sir," she told him.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment longer. Her thoughts drifted for a moment to the night before, what a mess she had been and wondered if she was ready, if she was strong enough. She knew she had to face her fears, and push her terror away.

"Captain, I appreciate your faith in me, and I am ready to return to duty whenever you wish."

Captain Picard said nothing, only watched her closely, looking for some sign of what had concerned Beverly so much.

"I can't run away. I have to face my fears."

Her fears…Jean Luc Picard's thoughts drifted momentarily to his brooding first officer. He wished he could know what had happened between them, what it meant. But he couldn't make himself ask.

"Thank you, Deanna. I am very proud of how you have handled yourself, and I look forward to your advise again on my bridge."

Deanna found that she couldn't quite meet his eyes. She felt such guilt, shame even, that she wasn't really the strong person they thought she was. It was a façade and she wondered how long she could keep it up to hide her hurt.

When the captain rose from the couch again, Deanna joined him, escorting him to the door.

"I will draft an order returning you to full duty, Counselor. I will leave the scheduling of your shifts to Commander Riker, but I would very much appreciate your presence on the bridge when we enter Torsian space."

Deanna nodded; glad that he could not sense her emotions as she could sense his. He was feeling like a weight had been taken from him, but she was feeling the extra weight already pressing heavily on her. "I will talk to Commander Riker about it," she assured him, though her stomach rolled at the thought.

The captain paused near the door, his back to her. Then slowly he turned to face her. "He cares about you, very much," he offered, hoping he did not overstep.

Deanna swallowed again against the lump in her throat. He knew. In some way at least, he knew. "Yes, I know," she told him. "He is a very good friend… and I am grateful for it."

The message that her words carried confirmed what he had already expected from watching his first officer. He didn't know how to make it better for the two of them. It was something they would need to address on their own. Still, it saddened him. He nodded his understanding briefly before walking out the door, leaving Deanna alone again in her office.

…

Deanna sighed heavily as the doors to her office closed behind the captain and slumped back down onto the couch. Her eyes were still feeling heavy and she thought of getting up and retrieving her cup of coffee, but she hated the taste of it. And yet the stimulant in it had been the only thing keeping her awake most of the day.

She had been a mess when Will had stormed out the night before, or had she thrown him out? Either way, it felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest and stomped on. She had knelt on the ground crying like a child, letting a lifetime's worth of pain pour from her.

Pain from her father's death when she was a little girl, pain from the man she loved leaving her years before, from waking to the darkness of a cave on a foreign planet surrounded by predators and not knowing what had become of her colleagues, or why she had been left behind.

Pain that she carried deep in her heart, covered and hidden from the rest of the world, suppressed by the numbing effects of a root that had been used against her. Now she used it to numb herself to the pain that she couldn't contain. She would have done anything to stop the pain, to stop feeling. And that had been when she went to her desk drawer.

The Fala root lay in the back, just a small corner of what she had originally broken off and carried into her office. Her body had begun to adapt to the presence of the chemical in her bloodstream and she knew that the small amount in her hand was unlikely to do much more that slightly steady her nerves, but it was something to take the edge off her pain.

She had quickly mixed the root into a tea and drank it in one gulp, but the effect was even smaller than she had hoped. She took deep cleansing breaths, struggling to pull herself together with the aid of her tea so she could return to her quarters among the crowded ship's corridors without making a scene.

---

It had been like running the gauntlet, trying to make her way through the long corridors, not running into anyone who knew her too well, or who might pick up on her distress, trying to keep a natural expression on her face.

Once she was safely inside, her emotions had again won out. Words spoken over the last few months echoed in her head.

_It didn't have to be this way,_

_You're smothering me!_

_You're trying to push me away._

_Don't you dare tell me I was doing my job!_

_You don't seem to know your place, you little bitch!_

_You don't know pain yet!_

Mortain had been right. This was pain, she thought as she pulled out the last section of Fala root in her drawer. In the last six weeks she had slowly ingested the entire root that she had replicated, leaving only this last section in her hand. It was more than she had ever taken at once, but she didn't care. She had to find that place that she had felt on the planet two months before. She had to numb the pain in her heart.

She again crushed the root into a paste and formed the tea. Then in one gulp, she drank all she could and walked into her bedroom, curling up on her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest. She could feel her mind going dull. Just as it had on the planet, the pain in her heart faded away and she drifted off into a drug induced heavy sleep.

When morning had come, her eyelids felt as if they had been wrapped around lead weights. The pain was still dulled somewhat, but she had to find some way to wake herself up enough to face her day. That had been when she had decided to have a mug of coffee.

The bitter taste had, at first, only managed to upset her stomach. She added cream and sweeteners until the taste was more bearable for her, but the alerting effects of the caffeine seemed to be fleeting and the lethargy remained. So she continued to sip at a cup of coffee all day.

She had been weak, out of control. But now, she realized as she stared at the doors that the captain had just walked out of, the time for weakness was over. It had been long enough and her real life awaited her. She couldn't let her emotions take over her again. She had to control them, even if that meant numbing them.

….

Will Riker sat at his desk pouring over the daily reports, grabbing bites of his dinner as he worked. He had had a perfectly miserable day and he didn't want to talk to another living soul, so when the chime rang on his door, he was tempted to simply ignore it. It only took him a moment to realize that wasn't really a viable option. "Come," he called roughly.

He hadn't expected it to be Deanna Troi at his door. She stood cautiously in the doorway for a moment as they carefully watched one another.

"May I come in?" she asked.

Will didn't answer, just gestured for her to enter, but his face showed no sign that he wanted her there. For every step she took inside, he seemed to move a step back, hiding behind his desk. His reaction to her didn't really surprise her. She had said some horrible things to him the night before.

Deanna walked in only so far to allow the doors would close behind her, but she didn't make an attempt to come any nearer to him. She had, after all, told him that he was smothering her.

"The captain came to see me this afternoon," she began awkwardly. "He said he would draft an order to return me to full duty."

Will didn't answer her, just picked up a PADD off the desk, gesturing that it contained the order.

"Ah," she responded. "Well, I told him I would get my existing patient schedule to you…" he still was not speaking, so she simply held out the PADD in her hand to him.

Will took it from her, nodding slightly. "I'll get it organized and get it to you, Counselor."

The formality stung, as she was sure it was intended to, but Deanna tucked that feeling away. "He mentioned that he would like me on the bridge when we enter Torsian space…"

"I'll take care of it," he told her. "And I'll get you the mission briefing as well."

"Thank you," she said quietly. The tension was almost unbearable. He did nothing to encourage her continued presence and she didn't know how much longer she could remain with things like they were. "Well, I should go," she said uncomfortably. "Good night, Commander." She turned and headed out the door.

"Good night," he called simply, but she heard the rest of the sentence in her mind. _Imzadi. _

He hadn't intended for her to, she didn't think, but she had heard it all the same. She almost stopped. Was that his peace offering? Was he less hurt and angry than he appeared? But she didn't turn back, she couldn't. She made her way out into the open corridor and headed back to her quarters. She was meeting Beverly in an hour for Worf's exercise class, and Deanna needed to shake off the feeling of being in that room.

Her mind churned as she changed clothes and grabbed her bag to head to the large gym on deck 12. She had asked Beverly to join her, a peace offering of her own, in a way. She had behaved so badly the day before in Sickbay. What her friend must think of her?

"Raving lunatic," she mumbled to herself in her empty quarters as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

She made her way back to her door, but as she walked across the front room, she noticed the drawer below the replicator where the last of the Fala root had been held. It now only held some linens and a set of candlesticks that had been given to her by her mother.

She didn't want to take it. She didn't like what she knew it was doing to her body, but the thought of facing the days ahead with no help, nothing to steady her nerves…

She didn't dare replicate another one. Who knew who was spying on her. She couldn't risk it.

She walked over and slammed the drawer shut before striding quickly into the hall to get to Worf's class on time.

She wanted to let it go, to put it out of her mind and her life, but as she strode along through the corridor, her thoughts dwelled on all the possible ways that she might be able to replicate another root and more than that, how to best cover it up.

Suddenly she realized where she was walking, along the diplomatic guest quarters. All but one of the doors she was passing were vacant, and each of them had a replicator, unused and mostly unmonitored.

Deanna's feet stopped without asking her brain for permission and she found herself looking from one vacant door to another. Her heart was starting to pound in her chest as adrenalin pumped through her veins. She looked quickly up and down the corridor. She was alone. No one was there to stop her.

In a moment of desperation, she started towards the door nearest her and quickly punched in her security code. When the doors opened she hurried inside. She didn't hesitate or even pause. She headed straight to the replicator unit. "Computer, replicate one Galian Fala root. "

In a moment it laid in the replicator bay in front of her, as long as her forearm and like a pliable stick. Part of her was relieved and yet at the same moment, she realized that she had hoped that something would have stopped her. But there it was. The decision was made.

Deanna grabbed the root and shoved it deep into the exercise bag that was swung over her shoulder, and in the same motion, spun and almost ran out the door back into the corridor.

She was fleeing as fast as she could around the corner when she saw them blocking the path.

"Counselor," Worf greeted her.

Deanna tried to steady her breathing before she spoke. "Worf, Mr. Paule."

Damon Paule smiled back at her. "Counselor, good to see you again."

Deanna saw Worf's eyes dart back to the door she had just left and then to where she stood in front of him. "Is everything…alright, Counselor?" he asked her.

Deanna and Worf locked eyes momentarily as she tried to spin a reason for her being in vacant guest quarters. "Fine," was all she could manage.

"Lieutenant Worf has invited me to join his class. Will you be joining us?" Damon Paule asked her casually, missing somehow the tension that Deanna could sense between her and her friend.

"Yes, I was just on my way there," Deanna answered.

"Well, then would you care to join us?" Damon Paule asked.

Deanna watched as Worf again looked from her to the vacant quarter's door. It was right on the edge of his tongue, and yet, he didn't ask. She needed something to distract his attention. She had made her choice.

Deanna reached out and took Damon Paule's arm, wrapping hers though it, and continued down the corridor. "I'd love to join you," she told him, smiling sweetly. She glanced back over her shoulder to where Worf stood and saw that instead of looking back at the door she had exited from, he was now looking firmly at her, his eyebrows furrowed. He clearly did not like her clinging to the arm of their guest.

"So, Damon. Tell me more about growing up on Torsia," Deanna said, glancing back over her shoulder. She had counted on that reaction.

The two of them continued their chat as they neared the gym, Worf keeping two paces behind them, scowling.

When the gym doors opened, there were several people moving around the room, stretching and talking amongst themselves. One of them was a red headed doctor and when she saw Deanna's companion she scowled.

"Mr. Paule," she said curtly as they approached her.

Deanna let go of Damon Paule's arm and came to stand next to Beverly. "Hello Beverly," she offered.

Beverly only watched her cautiously.

"Well," Damon Paule stuttered, unsurely. "If you'll excuse me," and he walked to the other side of the gym, closer to where Worf was standing, though he continued to watch the two women oddly.

Deanna looked back to the doctor, who stood shaking her head.

"Beverly," Deanna tried to calm her.

"What are you doing, Deanna?"

"That wasn't anything. I needed to distract Worf for a moment, and he was there and…"

"And?" Beverly questioned, confused.

"Nothing. And nothing," Deanna answered. She was exhausted.

"And Will? Was that nothing as well?"

Deanna turned to her friend, her eyes wide with shock. "It..that…you don't understand."

Beverly shook her head again. "No, I sure don't," she said, frustration showing in her voice.

Deanna felt tears of exhaution and frustration sting her eyes. "Beverly, I made a mistake. I'm trying my best, and I know I behaved badly yesterday, and I'm sorry." It was all the apology she could muster.

Beverly was shocked to see the tears in her friend's eyes. Class was beginning, but Beverly reached out and touched Deanna's arm. "I just want to help you," she offered.

They didn't speak as they went through the Klingon stretches and maneuvers for the next half an hour. When the class was over and the students were filing out, Beverly came up to Deanna as she bent down and stuffed a towel back into her bag. "Maybe we could talk for a bit."

Deanna was so tired. All she could think about was going home and going to bed. She was too exhausted to continue to fight with her friends. "I can't," she said quietly.

"I still have to read through the mission briefing tonight."

"Mission briefing?" Beverly asked.

"The captain returned me to full duty today. I'll be heading back to the bridge, maybe even tomorrow." Somehow she had hoped that Beverly would be supportive, maybe congratulate her. She didn't know why. Beverly had seemed cautious of every step she had taken from the moment she awoke in Sickbay. This moment was no different. Beverly's brow furrowed and her lips scowled. What Deanna sensed seemed a lot like resentment, and she wasn't sure why her friend would feel that way.

"Did he even talk to you?" Beverly almost snapped.

"Why are you so angry? This should be a good thing," Deanna snapped back.

"I'm angry because I don't like people asking for my opinion when they have no intention of listening to it in the first place," Beverly answered in a huff.

Deanna stood up and threw the bag over her shoulder. "Well, I didn't ask for your opinion," she said flatly, then turned and walked away.

….

Deanna wiggled her toe that emerged from the bubbles on the other end of the tub. She had hoped that she could soak the bad feelings away, but it didn't seem to be working. It seemed like she and Beverly were always on the verge of snapping at one another lately. Will was barely speaking to her. She had succeeded in completely destroying that friendship out of some twisted need for safety. She had also managed to get thoroughly disapproving looks from Worf for the majority of the class that evening.

What was next?

What if she didn't meet the captain's expectations on the Bridge?

Would he be the next friend to disapprove of her?

When she thought about walking back onto the bridge, Deanna's stomach tied in knots. She had read the mission briefing as soon as she got home. Will had sent it to her, just the file, not a word of encouragement.

The mission seemed straight forward, at least in purpose. They needed to shore up their alliance with the Torsians, even if that meant renegotiating trade agreements that were only six months old. The Torsain people had always been known as passivist, certainly never one to start a fight, though they had defended their territory successfully from several different aggressors over the years. But Starfleet intelligence had detected mass amounts of weapons being gathered and detection grids being put in place, and it had the federation worried.

Was it possible that they were ready to break with history? Did they view the treaties, which once she saw them, were clearly slanted in favor of the Federation, as an act of aggression in and of themselves? And what had happened to the governor who had signed the treaties that so handicapped his own world? He had effectively disappeared. What had the consequence been for him on these supposedly passivist planets?

Was she really ready for this? Sensing others' feelings? Being quick on her feet? She shook her head at herself, her wet hair sticking to her cheek. The answer was that she had to be. The captain wanted her on the bridge. She would have to do her duty to the best of her ability.

Deanna sighed and then let her body slip under the water again. She heard the beep of her computer, even with her head underwater. She emerged with bubbles covering her face and hair and grabbed for a towel, her eyes still closed, wiping the bubbles from her face. Reluctantly, she pulled herself from the warm water and wrapped her robe around her, as she headed into her front room to check her message.

There was a new file blinking on the screen. She hit the button to activate the view screen and the message opened in front of her. Again it was from Will. _See attached Bridge schedule-_

_Well, don't get too personal,_ she thought coldly as she opened the file. She almost would have preferred anger to professional distance.

And there it was in front of her. No more debate about ready or not. She was to report for a bridge shift the day after tomorrow, four hours before they entered Torsian space. Deanna realized that her hands were trembling and she pulled her robe tighter to her, though she knew it was not because she was cold. She stared for a moment more at the schedule on the screen, and then slowly her eyes drifted over to the exercise bag that sat on the end of her sofa. The root she had replicated still sat shoved deep in the bottom.

"What now, Deanna?" she asked herself.

She knew she should just curl up and hope sleep would overtake her, but the anxiety of the days ahead had gripped her heart. Slowly she walked towards the bag and dug to find the root. She brought it out and studied it for a moment. She could taste the bitter, almost metallic taste that she had tasted the night before. It had only tasted like that once before, the morning that she had left Galia Prime.

….

Mortain had forced the tea into her mouth, almost drowning her with it. He held a knife to her throat, and all she could do was beg for the sun to rise a little faster. With the sun came her deliverance, but the light only played on the edge of the horizon.

"You know, I'll miss you, my little bitch," he spat at her. "You have been more exciting than most. But I'm sure you understand. He paid well for you. I hope you're worth it."

Deanna had closed her eyes against the sight of him. Her mind was already feeling hazy from the bitter liquid that she could still taste on her tongue. But when she heard the knife in his hand clatter to the floor, she knew she was in trouble. She thought about calling out to Will, telepathically. She had told him to leave her there, that it wouldn't matter. It wasn't worth a whole village dying over. But now that it was happening, knowing that he was so near and not there to protect her… it was almost worse than the hopeless feeling that had encompassed her for days.

She cried out when she felt him jam his hand inside her. The pain was almost unbearable, yanking her mind out of the fog that it wanted to slip into. He reached over her and untied her wrists from the tether of the wall, and threw them, still bound together, over her head. Her shoulder made an awful crack and pain shot through her arm.

"One last time, eh? You can even fight back."

But she couldn't. There was no way to reach the knife that lay by her knee. There was no way for her to free her arms to reach him. He weighed heavily on top of her as he pushed inside her again and again. Her only weapon available was her link to Will Riker.

She could almost sense him. He was so near. But calling him now would only put his safety and the possibility of their escape in jeopardy. So she let go, gave in to the fog that filled her mind and the pain and the anger and the fear drifted away.

When she regained consciousness, the light had increased in the sky outside her grimy, partially broken window. Her arms were still untethered, but bound together, lying across her chest. After a moment, she realized that she wasn't alone in the room and she reacted on instinct, dragging her body off the ground to face her next attacker. But there was no attacker in the darkened corner by the door. There was only a woman. She had seen her once before, but this time she was free of her shroud.

Deanna was so weak. She sunk back to the ground as the woman approached her. Her hair was hanging, blocking some of the view of her face, but Deanna could see the course that tears had taken down her cheeks. She offered Deanna a damp rag and a cup filled with water.

"Drink it," she said quietly, her eyes cast down.

"I can't. I'm so tired," Deanna's words came out almost in a pant with her ragged breathing.

The woman wiped the rag along Deanna's face briefly. "Please," she cried, her voice cracking. "He took my sons. He says that you must drink this. Please! The youngest is only an infant. Drink this!" she said thrusting it back towards her.

Deanna took the cup. She didn't know what else to do.

"Your husband has come for you," the woman told her softly. "Drink this and I will take you to him."

Her only thought was Will, and safety as she pressed the cup to her lips and drank it quickly. It was awfully bitter, almost burning, and the taste in her mouth was like she had chewed up a spoon.

"Now cover yourself with this," the women threw a black shroud over her naked body, wrapping it around her expertly. She helped Deanna to her feet. "He is waiting for you."

….

Deanna stood in her quarters, staring out at the stars sliding by her window, lost in the memories of the darkest moments of her life. She realized that her hand was gripping the root in her hand so tightly that it had almost snapped in half and her heart was pounding so hard she was sure it would leap from her chest. Deanna let the bag drop to the floor at her feet and she walked towards the replicator, root in hand. "Computer, hot water, with lemon and honey."


	22. Rescue 22

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Here is my little mother's day gift for my readers. Try to stick out the first part of the chapter. You don't want to miss the last part. :) I am anxious to hear what you all think when you are done reading. :)

**Chapter 22**

Deanna felt like she was walking a walk of doom as she went to the turbo lift for her first bridge shift in over two months. Her stomach was twisting and turning in her abdomen and she already had a headache. The doors for the turbo lift opened and she spotted the man standing inside.

She quickly plastered a friendly smile on her face. "Mr. Paule," Deanna greeted him.

"Counselor, good morning." He stepped aside to give her some space.

"Main Bridge," she called and the lift continued on its journey.

"Everyone seems to be on their toes this morning," he offered as casual conversation.

"Well, we have all been preparing for this day for several weeks," she reminded him.

The two fell into an awkward silence, until he turned and stepped into her path. "Counselor, if I may, I would like to apologize to you."

Deanna looked back at him curiously.

"If I had known that you two were involved in a relationship, I would never have approached you as I did when we first met."

Deanna's mind immediately turned to Will Riker, and her defencises went up. "We are not in a relationship, I assure you," she said shaking her head

Damon Paule raised his hand in a gesture of peace. "I understand completely," he told her. "And while same sex relationships are not the norm on Torsia, I do understand that they are well accepted in other cultures, and I hold no bias against them."

Deanna's eyebrows almost leapt form her forehead. "I'm sorry, who am I supposed to be in a relationship with, exactly?"

Damon Paule looked back at her confused. "Doctor Crusher," he finally finished flustered.

"Did someone tell you that?"

Damon shrugged his shoulders. "Well, to be honest, I was confused when she first saw us together in Ten forward. It was pretty obvious that she was not happy about it, but when I saw the two of you together in the gym the other night, I began to understand."

Deanna covered her mouth with her hand and tried to cover the laugh that she felt forming.

"You are not in a relationship with Doctor Crusher?"

Deanna let out a small laugh. "Ah, no. We are not in a relationship."

Damon Paule quickly looked away. "I apologize if I offended…"

Deanna reached out and touched his arm lightly. "I'm not offended, just surprised. I…" Deanna laughed again at the thought. She realized it was the first time she had laughed in days. "Actually, thank you. I needed to laugh this morning," she said as she felt the turbo lift slow to a stop. She was suddenly feeling far more relaxed.

"Oh, well…" he said shifting awkwardly as the doors opened.

As Deanna stepped out onto the bridge, Geordi Laforge, who stood at a science station, began to applaud and soon everyone had joined in. Deanna felt herself start to blush with embarrassment.

"Did I miss something?" the guest asked looking around at the Bridge crew.

"No," Geordi replied lightly. "We applaud every time she walks into a room," he said with a smile.

Deanna made her way down the ramp to greet her waiting captain.

"Welcome back, Counselor," he greeted her.

"Thank you, Sir," she answered sincerely.

Her eyes met Will's for a brief moment. He was smiling conservatively but didn't go out of his way to greet her.

"Mr. Paule," the captain called to their guest. "Thank you for joining us. Please, could you join me in my ready room?" he asked. "If you'll excuse me," he said with a nod to Deanna. "You have the Bridge, Number One."

The captain's exit left Deanna and Will standing alone together, awkwardly.

"Welcome back, Counselor," Data interrupted their lingering stare.

Deanna turned to him and smiled.

"Well, back to work, huh?" Will suggested. Deanna took a deep breath and nodded. She sat back down in her chair and took a moment to absorb her surroundings before beginning to search through the information on her computer terminal. It gave her something to do other than trying to come up with something to say to the first officer. She could feel him watching her as he sat in the chair next to her, but what he was feeling was a mystery.

After a few hours, Deanna began to feel the rhythm of the place amongst the bustle of activity on the Bridge. The crew was keeping track of every detail, every nuisance as the ship came to the edge of Torsian space.

"Captain, we are approaching the border of Torsian space," Data informed them.

The captain was on his feet right away and his first officer was right behind him. Deanna wondered when they had each begun that habit.

"Sensor readings?" Commander Riker asked.

"There are several vessels within sensor range. None have altered course to intercept."

"Drop to one third impulse," the captain instructed. "Nice and easy."

For several long minutes there was nothing but silence as the Enterprise eased across the boarder, watching carefully the reaction of the vessels around them. Deanna could feel the tension from the men that surrounded her and it put her on edge.

Finally it was Worf's voice that cut through the silence. "Captain, we have encountered a defense grid. A signal has been sent to the Torsain fleet."

"Keep it steady, Ensign," Captain Picard assured Ensign Lee who sat at the helm.

"Captain, several vessels have changed course," Data informed them.

"Who will be the first to intercept?" Riker asked.

"At their current speed and trajectory, the Furrati, a Torsain Alliance cruiser will intercept in 3 minutes 14 seconds."

Will turned to look at Worf. "What do we know about the Furrati?"

"It has advanced shielding, photon torpedo and phaser capability."

"And her crew?" the captain inquired.

"Ship's compliment… one hundred eighty seven. The commanding officer is Gortan Seul."

"I know of him," Damon Paule broke in. "He is known to be a bit of a free spirit, but fair."

"Fair about what?" Will muttered to his captain.

The captain raised his own brow. "We are about to find out."

"Sir," Data spoke. "There are seventeen other vessels also on an intercept course. Many are civilian trade vessels. All are armed."

"They have us outnumbered, Sir," Riker said looking to his captain for his orders.

Worf broke in again. "Sir, the Furrati is powering up its forward weapons array. I recommend that we raise shields."

"Just because they're prepared to fight, doesn't mean they want to, Captain," Damon Paule reminded them.

The captain shifted his gaze from the guest on his bridge to his security chief. "How long until they are within weapons range?"

"One minute three seconds."

He turned his attention to his ship's counselor who sat quiet and unmoving in her seat. "Counselor, can you sense anything?"

Deanna looked back at him, firmly. "Not yet." She wished she could.

"Open hailing frequencies," the captain ordered. "Furrati, this is Captain Jean Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. We have come to open a dialogue with the leaders of your worlds on the recent trade agreements between our peoples."

There was only silence. The captain turned to look at Worf, who shook his head briefly to indicate that there had been no response.

"Captain, the Furrati's weapons systems are fully engaged," Worf told him.

"Are they within range?" Riker asked.

"Thirty four seconds," Data answered.

The captain again turned to his ships counselor. "Anything?"

"I can get a general sense from the ship," she offered, helplessly.

"Anything to show me their intent."

Deanna felt the pressure on her like a crushing weight, but she tried to concentrate on the weak fragment of emotions that she was feeling from the ship rapidly approaching. She felt her own anxiety rise in her, as her breathing increased. She could feel a sense of threatening all around her. Her eyes met her captain's again. "I believe their intentions are hostile."

The captain gave a quick nod and turned to his security chief. But before he could speak, Data interjected.

"Sir, may I remind you that in all of Torsain history it has never been recorded that they initiated a conflict, and that our act of entering their space and raising our shields may only add to their belief that we have committed a hostile act."

The captain's eyes quickly darted from his second in command to his ships counselor. Was there a hint of doubt there? And had it been right to put her in this position? But the decision was made and all things considered, he gave the benefit of the doubt to Deanna Troi. "Mr. Worf, raise shields."

It was only another moment before they received the message from the Torsain vessel.

"We are being hailed," Worf informed them.

"On screen."

"Federation starship Enterprise, this is Gortan Seul, Captain of the Torsian Cruiser Furrati. We have received your communication, and yet you show no signs of your stated intent. Why have you committed the hostile act of raising your shields against an ally?"

"Captain Seul, I assure you we mean you no harm. We had no way of interpreting your actions and sought only to protect ourselves."

"You have crossed, uninvited, into our space. You are the aggressor. We have a right to defend ourselves if necessary."

"No." Captain Picard assured him. "It will not be necessary. We are here on a mission of peace."

"Forgive me Captain, but our welcome mat for the Federation is wearing a bit thin, of late."

"That is our understanding. I have a hope that we may be able to rectify that situation."

There was a lingering pause before he spoke again. "I will need a moment," Captain Seul said and the transmittion was abruptly terminated.

The captain raised his eyes in question at his first officer, but all Commander Riker could muster in return was a small shrug.

"Captain," Data spoke. "There are now eighteen vessels in a course to surround us, Sir."

"Trapped and giving us lectures about self defense," Commander Riker commented.

The captain again turned to face his ever growing more quiet ship's counselor. She sat almost frozen in her seat, her eyes wide, watching a blank view screen. "Counselor?" the captain asked.

Deanna pulled herself out of her dangerous thoughts, back to the present. "He's angry. There is a great amount of resentment about our presence."

"But will he act on those feelings?"

"He's capable of it. And if he is provoked, I think he certainly will. They are as on edge as we are, Captain."

"And are our shields protecting us, or provoking?"

Deanna only gave a small shrug. "Perhaps both."

"And you still believe his intentions to be hostile?"

Deanna struggled, less sure of her assertion. "I believe his anger is almost overwhelming. And he also feels a lot of pressure from the other vessels to not be viewed as weak. If he is weak, one of the other ships might act of their own accord."

"Then we lower our shields," Captain Picard offered.

"Captain, he is hailing us."

The captain gave a nod, and the tranmittion began again.

"Captain, if we are to believe your good will, you would not have raised your shields, thereby jeopardizing our good faith. Lower your shields and our negotiations may continue."

"And what gesture of good will do we receive in return?" the captain asked.

"Captain," Worf offered a warning. " Every ship is powering up their weapons."

"My order not to fire, is the only good will I am prepared to offer at the moment," Seul told him.

The captain glanced to his first officer and with a look communicated. Riker turned to Lieutenant Worf and spoke quietly. "Drop the shields."

Worf's expression made it clear that he did not like what he was about to do, but he did it nonetheless.

"Now, Captain Picard of the Enterprise," Seul said, appearing abundantly more relaxed. "What is it you wish to talk about?"

The captain gave a weary smile. They had not been fired upon yet. "The Federation has sensed some tension between us. As allies, we want to resolve it."

"And is the type of goodwill you have shown so far all that you are prepared to offer?"

"No," the captain replied. "We would like to meet with you."

"Then you may come aboard and we will discuss, face to face. We will send the coordinates." Again the transmission was abruptly terminated.

The Enterprise crew stared at one another for a moment. "Well," the captain said pulling at his uniform tunic. "I've received warmer invitations."

He turned to take in his Bridge crew. He wanted someone with him when he transported to the Torsian vessel. His first instinct was to take his ship's counselor, but as he looked at her, he could see that she was flustered by the interaction. She was looking away from him and she held on to her seat as if she was in danger of loosing her balance.

He doubted again his own decision. But the choice was made. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to order her on another away mission. The last time he had done that, it had nearly cost her life. He knew it was wrong. He was her captain and his personal relationship with her came second to the needs of the ship and the mission, and yet when he looked at her, he didn't feel much like a captain at all. No. She would stay on the Enterprise, in relative safety.

"Mr. Data, Mr. Paule," he said indicating that they should join him. "Number One, you have the bridge," he said as he, Data and their guest headed to the turbo lift.

….

Deanna sat, clinging to the edge of her chair, unable to meet her captain's eyes. She could feel the panic threatening to overtake her. She had not expected to feel so personally threatened, and had overreacted to the emotions she felt from the Torsain vessel. It had been an error in judgment, and it had started the negotiations off on the wrong foot.

She watched the three men's feet as they stepped into the lift. The captain had doubted her, but gone along anyway. And what had it gotten him? She had put them in more danger. Perhaps she was more of a liability than an asset, she thought as she watched the lift doors close. It should have been her with the captain, and yet, he took Data. He didn't trust her.

She took a deep breath to try and steady her nerves as she felt the first officer slide into the chair next to her. He leaned close to her, hoping to keep their conversation as private as possible.

"Just because he wasn't ready to attack, doesn't mean his emotions weren't hostile," he tried to comfort her.

But Deanna only looked over at him with a sidelong glare, begging him to leave her alone. _Be anything but nice,_ she thought as she felt the lump constricting her throat and tears sting her eyes. She looked down, quickly blinking them away and Will Riker backed off, understanding her message.

"Let's keep a transporter lock on the away team," he ordered.

….

Deanna paced around her quarters talking herself down as the hour grew later. Her time on the Bridge had been harder than she had thought. She couldn't shake her error and even after the captain had left, she felt like everyone was watching her, judging if she should really be there. Will had tried a few times to be reassuring and it only made her feel worse. Why couldn't he just be angry or hurt? Or was he just handling her, like he would any other tentative ensign their first day at ops.

"Ahhh!" she cried out. She wondered if she wouldn't feel better if she just threw something.

The chime at her door honestly startled her and that pulled her out of her self-indulgent thoughts. "Come in," she called from her bedroom doorway.

The doors opened to reveal the captain standing in her doorway. He was uncomfortable. He didn't want to show it, but she could sense it right under his exterior.

"Captain, come in."

He took only a few steps inside her door, but before he could speak, she jumped in.

"I'm sorry for my reaction today. I know that my reactions were not wholly based on the current situation and that I need to focus more on…"

"Counselor," he interrupted her. "I didn't come here to chastise you."

Deanna stopped abruptly and closed her mouth sharply.

"I see you're doing a fine job of that all by yourself," he added.

Deanna looked down at her feet.

"Deanna," he said more diligently, almost chastising her. "Perfection is not a requirement for your job, or mine for that matter."

"I lost focus…" but the captain held up his hand for her to stop, and she did.

"Are you alright, Counselor?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir. I'm fine. It was hard today, but tomorrow will be easier."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that, because that's what I came to talk with you about." The captain gestured to the sofa and Deanna sat down as he sat in the chair next to her.

"Gortan Seul…" he began. "I can't get a feel for him."

"How did the talks go today?" Deanna asked, concerned.

"We don't trust each other," he said simply. "I need to change that. And this afternoon he had some of the other ships' captains join us…" the captain was pensive. "And in the meantime, my crew sits defenseless…surrounded."

"You feel trapped," Deanna told him.

"Yes," the captain said emphatically as he stood and went to her window to watch the situation, as he sighed.

"What can I do, Sir?"

The captain turned back to where she sat watching him, and again he had that pulling at his heart. He had to get that feeling in check if she were to continue as an effective member of his crew. "I'd like you to join me tomorrow on the Furatti. Give me a feel for this man."

Deanna felt her heart start to pound, but she kept her facial expression steady. "Of course," she said, grateful that he still had some confidence in her.

The captain sighed with relief. "Thank you, Counselor." He stepped closer to her. "We will meet in transporter room 4 at 08:00."

"Yes, Sir."

He hesitated for another moment and thought of the times that he had returned to the Bridge after a tragedy… after Jack Crusher's death, after the Borg… "It does get easier," he offered.

Deanna felt his compassion and she smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Good night Counselor," he said as he headed out her door.

Deanna watched him go, then sank down onto the couch again and sighed. "I hope so," she said to the empty room. She kicked off her boots and looked over at her bedroom. She was exhausted. Maybe if she slept without taking anything, she would be in a better position for the next day's activities. She walked to her room and pulled her uniform off as she began to fill her bath. A long bath, a sound sleep… it would get easier.

….

The Furatti was a smaller ship, older, but orderly and well maintained. Deanna walked behind her captain as they followed their Torsian escorts down the corridors. Data was only a pace behind her with Damon Paule following after him. Being flanked by the captain and Data somehow made her feel safer as she walked into the room where they would meet with five of the Torsian captains whose ships surrounded the Enterprise.

After several hours, Jean Luc Picard was growing weary of the constant refrain from the captains that surrounded them. Information from them was scarce and their trust was clearly not something easily earned. The Torsians had taken a moment to confer amongst themselves so Picard turned to his officers and raised his eyebrows.

"You are making progress, Captain," Deanna tried to reassure him.

He gave her a doubtful look and she added, "slow progress."

"Mr. Paule, who is it that really has the power here? Who is it that I'm asking to talk to?" the captain inquired. For all the work, he knew no one in the room had the authority to make the decisions that Jean Luc Picard needed to be made. For now, he was only trying to gain enough trust to proceed further into Torsian space to reach whoever's decision it would ultimately be.

Damon Paule shrugged. "I would guess that Governor Lext has resigned from the outrage. The next logical step would be Emissary Putyon. But they feel so taken advantage of now…I don't envy you Captain."

"Mr. Data," the captain inquired.

"Emissary Putyon would be expected to be on the second planet of the Torsian system. We could be there in 18 hours 4 minutes at warp 5."

"Might as well be years away," the captain sighed under his breath as the Torsian leaders took their seats again.

The captain turned his attention to Gortan Seul at the head of the table, but something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned slightly, trying to determine what it was that he had seen. When he saw it again, he knew it immediately. The captain of a Torsian trade vessel sat across from his ships counselor. He was staring at her relentlessly, his eyes looking her up and down as if she were no more than an object to be ogled. Jean Luc Picard's attention drifted for a moment to Deanna Troi in the seat next to him. She was trying to ignore the man's intense gaze, but Captain Picard could see it was having a troubling effect on her.

For the first time, Captain Picard realized that Deanna was the only female in the room full of men. He glanced back at her again and for a moment he saw what they did.

She was beautiful. Her dark hair was a contrast to her ivory skin. Her body was voluptuous in her uniform. He didn't often think of her like that, as a beautiful woman. But she was, and he wondered how many times in her career at his side she had been objectified like she was right now and still maintained her poise and done her job in spite of it.

"Tell me Captain Picard," Captain Seul began and Jean Luc tore his eyes away from his officer and looked again to the man at the head of the table. "If it is the Federation's intention to renegotiate these trade agreements, why is it that the original negotiators have not returned?"

"It is the Federation's belief that fresh eyes on the situation may be far more productive," the captain offered.

"Is that why you brought him? For his fresh eyes?" one of the trade vessels captain asked pointing to Damon Paule.

"I am doing more to help our people on this side of the table than you are, Farek," Damon argued back.

"And they sent the flag ship…to what? Impress us with their military might?" one of the others asked.

"No, we are not here to engage in military action. We were sent to show our sincerity," the captain assured them.

Even as he spoke, he could see the man across from Deanna had not let up from his gaze.

The conversation continued, but he could not stop himself from the occasional glance to check on Deanna's response to the man's scrutiny. He could only imagine what kind of thoughts she could sense from the man, and how much worse it must be making it for her.

Eventually he saw that her exterior had cracked. Her breathing was coming faster and faster, and he caught the ever so slight tremble to her hand. He had to do something, but confrontation with the man was not what the situation needed.

"Captain Seul," he interrupted the man at the head of the table. "I apologize, but may I just have a moment with my crew?"

The Torsians looked at one another curiously, but Captain Seul nodded and Deanna and Data followed the captain out of the room into the corridor.

…

Deanna was visibly flustered as she turned to her captain as the doors closed.

"Counselor," he began.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," she said quickly, but her breath was still fast and ragged and the tremble in her hand was growing.

"What is it you sense?" he asked cautiously.

Deanna only shook her head. "It's nothing. It has no impact on the mission," she tried to assure him. But in her heart she dreaded going back into the room. Not only were the man's thoughts terribly erotic, they were physically aggressive and it was taking all her mental concentration to push them away and not allow herself to fall into another flashback from her time on Galia Prime.

"Captain, if we could agree for the Emissary to meet us on neutral ground…" Data began to speak, but the captain put his hand up for Data to be quiet. The negotiations were not his immediate concern.

"Counselor," he said looking at her sympathetically as she tried to steady her own nerves.

"I'd like you to return to the ship."

"No." Deanna shook her head firmly. "I'm fine."

The captain sighed and glanced back at the room they had just vacated. He didn't want to put her through it, but the captain in him also realized that he had introduced an unstable element into an already unstable situation.

"Mr. Data, could you give us a moment, please?" the captain asked.

Data nodded and stepped away.

"Deanna," he used that chastising voice again.

"I can do this, Sir. Please, let me do my job," she almost pleaded.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked.

Deanna only shrugged. She didn't want to tell him it had been getting progressively worse as the day went on. "I can do this," she repeated.

But the captain shook his head. "Maybe you can, but it's unnecessary. We have made good progress with your help today. Go home."

"Sir," Deanna protested.

But the captain was done. "That's an order, Counselor. Go home. Shake it off. Talk it out, whatever you need to do. But you do not need to be here, now."

Deanna didn't protest. She was too angry and didn't trust her own tone.

"Data," Captain Picard called Data back to them. "Counselor Troi will be returning to the ship."

"Aye, Sir."

The captain tapped his COM badge. "Picard to Enterprise."

It was Will Riker's voice that responded. That was the last voice she wanted to hear. She felt like she was being sent to the corner. "Yes, Captain?"

"Transport Counselor Troi back to the ship. Commander Data and I will signal we are ready for transport when we are finished."

There was a pause. Deanna could sense Will's concern. "Aye, Sir," he said simply. "We've locked onto her."

The captain gave her one last nod. He was doing the right thing, but he knew she was upset. He and Data took a step away from her before he spoke again. "Energize."

….

Deanna opened her eyes as she materialized in the transporter bay.

"Welcome home, Counselor," the transporter operator greeted her, but she did not respond. She quickly stormed out the door. She wanted to be alone. She had to get back to her quarters before she completely lost control. Her steps were fast as she made her way down the corridor.

She sensed him before he spoke and she picked up the pace a little more. "Counselor," he called after her, but she didn't stop.

Why couldn't he just hate her and leave her alone? No, he had left the Bridge to come check on her.

"Deanna," he called again. He was gaining on her. Finally she turned around to face the first officer. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she told him harshly, before turning back around, continuing on her way.

"Deanna," he said again.

She turned back to him, looking around her to make sure they were alone. "I said I was fine, just leave me alone," she cried before turning and almost running away from him.

….

Deanna sat in a heap on her couch, like she had been for the last few hours. For a while she had cried, but she was too angry to feel the release that tears usually offered. After a while she had gotten up and retrieved the writing journal that she had used when she first returned to the ship. She began flipping through it for some clue of what to do now. She had let the captain down again. It seemed to her that her life was spinning out of control. The captain had said to talk it out, but to whom? Will's words echoed in her head.

_You know if you push everyone away, you're going to find that you're all alone, even when you don't want to be. _

She would have screamed at him if he had been there, maybe it would have made her feel better. But she had pushed everyone away and now she was alone and scared. She found the list that she had made weeks before. Most of the items were checked off, except two items on the bottom. Galia Prime and Sex. Sex… she wasn't afraid of it anymore. But she was terrified of something different. She couldn't be hurt. She'd do anything to protect herself. But was it protection if it left her alone like this? She stared at the list thinking about what it all meant and what was happening to her.

"Senior Staff, report to the Observation Lounge," the captain's voice called.

Deanna sighed desperately, but she dragged herself off the couch and straightened her hair and makeup quickly before heading out the door.

She wondered what the situation would hold when she walked into the room, and if she would be at all capable of handling it. She didn't even know that the captain had returned to the ship, but as she walked into the room, she found that he was there along with Commander Riker and Commander Data. Worf walked in from the Bridge just as Deanna entered and Geordi was just behind her.

"Do we have an update, then, Sir?" Will asked as he took his seat. The rest of them followed suit. Deanna waited until most of them were seated, then took a seat at the far end of the table to listen.

"Well, the good news is that a Torsian delegation has agreed to meet with us. "

"And the bad news?" Riker asked skeptically.

"They'll be here in five days."

"And until then?" Worf asked.

"We wait."

"Like this? Surrounded and our shields down?" Worf asked angrily.

"Patiently," the captain responded. "Surrounded with our shields down."

"And the other option?" Riker asked skeptically.

"We withdraw and start again when the delegation arrives."

"If they arrive. If we withdraw, they may not come at all," Data pointed out.

"But five days…" Commander Riker shook his head.

"What choice do we have, Number One? We have the benefit of history on our side. Mr. Paule has assured me that they will not attack unless provoked. "

"But still…"

The captain nodded his understanding, but then shrugged mildly. "We have five days to prepare to negotiate new trade agreements. Number One, I'd like you and Commander LaForge to concentrate on trade routes through the sector. Doctor," he said looking up and realizing that Dr. Crusher had not joined them. "Captain to Dr. Crusher," he called.

Beverly's response was terse. "I'm sorry Captain. I'm going to need to skip the meeting. Is Lieutenant Worf with you?"

"Yes," the captain replied a bit puzzled. "Is there a problem?"

"Worf, could you please send a security team to Sickbay, immediately!" Her voice was frustrated and on edge.

"Security team Alfa, report to Sickbay," Worf called. "They are on their way, Doctor," he informed her.

"Doctor?" the captain asked again.

"The situation is under control for the moment, Captain, but at your convenience, could Commander Riker join me, and Counselor Troi as well?"

"Anything else?" the captain asked obediently.

"Well, Commander LaForge may want to join us while we're at it," she replied.

The captain almost rolled his eyes and sighed. "It sounds as though our meeting has been changed to Sickbay. We will go over all of this in the morning. Meeting adjourned."

Worf, Geordi, Will and Deanna looked questioningly at one another, but proceeded off to sickbay to find what had caused the commotion.

….

When the doors to Sickbay opened it appeared surprisingly calm. Alyssa Ogowa stood in the far corner with her husband, Andrew, sitting in front of her on a bio bed. She was healing a cut above his left eye.

Nearby stood one of Worf's security officers.

"Is everything alright?" Will asked the lieutenant.

"Yes, Sir. The situation is secured."

"Where is Lieutenant Griggs?" Worf asked.

"He is with Dr. Crusher in her office."

The four members of the senior staff looked at one another puzzled.

"Commander LaForge," Andrew called from the bed. "Could you please tell them to stand down? I'm not dangerous," he pleaded with his commanding officer.

Geordi looked at Worf and then back at his lieutenant. "Why don't you just sit tight Andy, let us get things straightened out."

"Act like a raging maniac and wonder why they had to call security," Alyssa began to mumble to her husband. "How little faith do you have in me?"

"It's not about you. It's about him!" he cried, standing from the table.

"Sit down," the security officer bellowed.

"He started it!" Andrew called gesturing towards Dr. Crusher's office.

"I started it! He swung at me first!" Dr. Turner shouted emerging from Dr. Crusher's office.

"You come near my wife, one more time!"

"And you'll what? You'll what?" The two men were quickly escalating.

"ENOUGH!" Commander Riker bellowed over the noise. "Lieutenant Turner, I suggest you get your ass back in that office before I order Lieutenant Griggs to put it there." He turned back to Geordi LaForge. "You wanna…" he gestured to the lieutenant from Engineering.

"Yeah, Andy. Your wife's the one with the scalpel. I'd suggest you sit down and shut up," Geordi finished.

The young doctor stepped back into the office escorted by the security officer and Beverly came out to join the rest. "It's like I became a referee on a school playground," she told them.

"What is going on here?" Deanna questioned.

"Apparently Dr. Turner cycled through all the single nurses and decided to start in on the married ones and Alyssa's husband didn't take too well to that. I think he came by to pick her up from her shift, but the next thing I know those two were screaming at each other and then they were punching each other in the face! Unbelievable. Apparently having seventeen ships aiming weapons at us isn't enough to keep them occupied."

The rest of them were looking puzzled. Then the argument erupted again in the corner.

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it!" the nurse was yelling at her husband. "This is humiliating!"

And yet the members of the senior staff in their huddle were finding it oddly humorous.

"Geordi, talk your officer down, would you," Will suggested.

"I think my officers have it under control," Worf relented. "I'll be on the Bridge."

He turned to leave and Will and Deanna looked at one another. "Which one do you want first, Counselor? Raging hormones or crazy jealous?"

Deanna looked back at the couple arguing in the corner and sighed heavily.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" he offered.

"I'll take Andy," she said finally and turned back the way she had come. Before she could reach the still arguing couple, she heard Will's voice bellow from the other room.

"Haven't you and I had this discussion once already, Doctor?"

Deanna tried to take a cleansing breath as she approached the couple. "So, would you like to talk?" Deanna asked.

Alyssa threw down her tool as she finished with her husband's eye. "No. I've done my job. He's all yours. I'm going home."

"Alyssa," he called after her as she stormed out Sickbay's main doors.

"I'd give her a little space if I were you," Deanna told him.

Andrew hung his head in frustration.

"What happened Andrew? I've known you for quite a while. I've never known you to act like this."

Andrew shrugged helplessly. "He just got under my skin! He's gone after every woman in here, and he kept telling her nice things…you look so nice today, Alyssa. You have such a good bedside manner Alyssa. I so enjoy your company, Alyssa! She'd told him over and over, but he wouldn't get the message!"

"Andrew," she said, trying to calm him down again.

"I just wanted him to leave my wife alone," he told her. "Was that too much to ask?"

"Oh, Andrew. Do you honestly think that Alyssa would have fallen for that? She loves you."

"I don't know. I guess I kind of lost it," he said sheepishly. "I'm sorry," he said, first to Deanna and then he turned to where Commander LaForge stood a little further off. "I'm sorry, Sir. I acted like an idiot."

"Hey, Andy. We all want to loose our cool sometimes," he said walking towards him. "But you can't just go around…"

"I know. I know. It won't happen again."

"Commander LaForge, you're his commanding officer. How would you like to handle this?" Deanna asked.

Geordi thought for a moment before he shrugged. "How about you steer clear of Sickbay for a couple of weeks," he suggested. "I'll have to put a reprimand in your file, and maybe it wouldn't hurt for you and your wife to talk to Counselor Troi in the morning."

Deanna nodded. "09:00?" she asked.

Geordi answered for him. "He'll be there."

Andrew looked defeated. "Anything else?" he asked.

"No," Geordi told him. "You can go home. Straight home, okay?"

"Yes, Sir," he said hopping down from the bio bed. He hung his head as he walked out the same doors his wife had left a few moments before.

"Poor guy," Geordi mumbled.

"That's the best punishment you could come up with?" Deanna asked him skeptically.

"Oh, come on Counselor. Nothing I did was gonna compare to the hell he's gonna catch when he walks into his quarters." Geordi looked around. "I think my job's done. I'm gonna call it a night. It's been fun," he said as he headed out the door.

Deanna listened to the low rumble of Will Riker's best angry voice coming from Beverly's office. Beverly was standing at the door.

"Are you okay?" she asked Beverly, quietly approaching.

Beverly just shrugged. "Are you?" she asked. "I heard you came back from the Torsian ship early."

Deanna felt her anger rise. "I'm fine," she told her. "There was a little misunderstanding."

Beverly just raised her eyebrow.

"Now?" Dr. Turner's voice was raised.

"Right now."

"This is crazy. I'm not doing it."

"You can do it, or you can go to your quarters and enjoy a vacation there while waiting to be transferred to your new post. I, for one, am just about done with you." Will's voice grew louder as he approached the door. He was surprised to find Deanna and Beverly there waiting for him.

"Counselor, Dr. Turner is waiting to accompany you to your office for his first counseling session," he said flatly.

Deanna looked back at him skeptically. Dr. Turner appeared behind him looking far less than overjoyed.

"NOW!" Will repeated loudly. "Lieutenant Griggs, you wouldn't mind escorting the two of them to the counseling office, would you?"

"No. Sir." The security officer answered.

Deanna sighed looking around the room. Then she gestured to the door. "Doctor, right this way."

The group of them made their way down the corridors to Deanna's office and she opened the door. She was surprised by the sheer amount of agitation she sensed from the man behind her. She had met him several times before and he had always come across as jovial and courteous. But tonight he was angry and contentious.

"Counselor, should I wait?" Lieutenant Griggs asked her as she and the doctor entered her office.

"No, thank you. I think I have it from here. Good night Lieutenant," she told him as she stepped into her office and the doors closed behind her.

Nathan Turner was pacing around the office like a caged animal.

"Sit down, Doctor," she told him.

He glared at her before sitting down in a chair. "Would you like to tell me why I'm here?" he asked bitterly.

Deanna looked back at him skeptically. "Why do you think you're here?"

"Commander Riker has it in for me," he said quickly.

"I don't think that's true," Deanna said calmly.

"Well, I don't see the guy who hit me sitting in here."

"I don't think you need to worry about him. His commanding officer has handled his punishment."

"He started it," he yelled beginning to pace again.

"Did he?" Deanna asked. "Nathan, why don't you sit down. I'd like to talk about you for a moment."

"You want to know how I got along with my mother?" he asked bitterly.

"Did you have problems with your mother?" Deanna asked.

"Nothing from my childhood is the problem."

"No. Commander Riker is the problem," Deanna remarked.

"Him and Doctor Crusher. Not that I can complain about either one of them."

"Why is that?" Deanna asked keeping a natural pace to the conversation.

"What, the golden boy and the captain's girlfriend? Gee, I don't know. You tell me."

"And why are they the problem?"

"They won't butt out of my personal life. It's none of their business."

"It's their business if it affects your work or the work of those around you. A few weeks ago there was a problem with two of the nurses in Sickbay. They were, what? Fighting over you?"

Deanna worried as she saw a smile cross his face. "Hey," he said coolly. "I can't control if they can't handle it. I don't mislead anyone."

"And the fact that they all work together?"

"Not my problem," he said with a small shrug.

"What did Commander Riker tell you when he talked to you then?" she asked.

The smile was immediately gone from his face. He stood and began to pace again. "Damn hypocrite," he muttered.

"What makes you say that?" Deanna asked, her tension growing with the tone of the conversation.

"You think I haven't heard about him? He's kind of got a reputation, no offence."

"Why would that offend me?" Deanna asked neutrally.

Nathan Turner laughed a cruel laugh. "Come on, you're his Friday night girl. You think people don't talk about you? You think I didn't see it all those times he came into the bay to see you? You think we all don't get it?"

Deanna felt her defenses fly up, but she tried to steer the conversation in the way she wanted it to go.

"This isn't about me, or anyone else but you. The concern _is you_ not taking responsibility for your actions."

"You've got to be kidding me," he groaned. "I'm not gonna sit here and listen to this bull shit from you. "

Deanna stood up to meet him. "Sit down, Doctor Turner," she told him firmly.

"Or what?" he asked snidely. "What are you going to do? Tell me, Counselor. Do you have to control every situation because you feel so completely out of control?"

The words stung in Deanna's chest, but she remained firm.

"You may sit down and follow your commanding officer's instructions, or you will need to deal with the consequences of that. Ultimately it is your choice, not mine."

"So what is it that you think is wrong with me?"

"If you sit down…"

"Either shut up or tell me!" he yelled.

"Alright, I think you are narcissistic and that you use others to build you up because you lack genuine confidence."

"Confidence! You think I lack confidence? Where's your confidence, Counselor?" he asked taking a step towards her and for the first time, Deana felt physically threatened.

"Sit down, Doctor Turner."

"When you came back today without the captain…was that because you were overly confident?"

"I said sit down."

He took two more steps towards her, and Deanna took a step back, until she felt the back of her leg come in contact with the couch behind her. She was trapped and she felt her hands start to tremble.

"_You're _falling apart on the inside, not me. So why should I stand here and listen to _you_ try to fix _me_ when you can't even fix yourself?" he said. His voice was almost a whisper as he leaned towards her.

Deanna reacted on instinct. She reached up and pushed him away from her, then moved to the center of the room, putting some physical distance between them.

He stumbled, but quickly recovered and stood staring at her smugly. Deanna drew herself up to her full height. "Lieutenant Turner, you are confined to your quarters until further notice. Is that clear?"

"You've got to be kidding," he muttered.

"You can go now on your own, or I will call security to escort you."

Turner huffed and rolled his eyes, but started towards the door. She watched him go and as the doors closed behind him, she felt her body react without her control. Her knees were weak, her hands shaking. She tried to take a deep breath to get control, but her mind was reeling.

_You're falling apart on the inside._

_If you spent as much time getting well, as you spent pretending you're well…you'd be back to work by now._

_Don't play shy with me. You know what you want._

_You worthless bitch!_

_Stupid whore!_

The words stung in her mind. She wanted to get home, wanted to be where she was safe. She raced through the almost empty corridors to the safety of her own quarters and quickly locked the door behind her. The wall felt cool against her back as she leaned back for support, but even it couldn't support her body. Her knees gave out and she sunk to the floor.

She sat there, huddled in a ball, shaking as time slipped by, unmarked by anyone. She thought about calling out for help, but there was no one to call for. Her life seemed to be spinning in front of her, like a funnel cloud picking up speed and destroying everything in its path.

_Stupid whore!_

_Worthless bitch!_

Her body seized forward and the skin on her back physically stung as she remembered the lash of the whip cutting into her skin as she was plunged into darkness. Confusion and noise from all around her that she could not distinguish filled her mind.

"No," she mumbled to herself and forced herself to open her eyes to the dim light that filled her quarters.

"No," she said again, shaking her head, unsteadily as she rose to her feet. "I won't go back there." She was trembling so severely that she had to hold onto the wall as she made her way to her bed. Sitting quietly on the edge, she rocked herself back and forth as the events of the past few months whirled through her mind.

_Fight back_

_You like it_

Her breathing was becoming more and more rapid, but still her mind was spinning from lack of oxygen. Then everything was still as she lost her battle and slipped back into her memories.

….

The man's boots were all she could see from where she lay on the floor naked and in pain, the claylike mud pushed into her nose and mouth.

"What's your name?" he asked. His voice was calm, but she could sense his anger and resentment. She lay silent on the ground, unable to move, struggling to breath.

"What is your name?" he said more sternly.

Still she lay at his feet silent, trying to control her own fear.

She felt the weight of his hand in her hair and then her head was jerked back roughly, bending painfully backwards.

"Name!" he said discarding his cool facade.

Deanna winced slightly from the pain but still did not speak.

"Where are you from?" he asked her, his mouth close to her ear.

Deanna felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her body ached, and she could tell it was only going to get worse.

He shoved her head back down into the mud and as she struggled for air, a sharp pain stung her lower back. His boot had kicked hard into the skin in her lower back, just below where her skin stung, cut from a whip.

"Name!" he called again. When she did not answer he kicked her again. "Name!" and before she would have even had a chance to answer the pain of his boot stung her again.

He placed the toe of his boot under her hip and flipped her over onto her wounded back.

Deanna brought her hands up close to her face to protect herself, but he quickly pulled them away as he pressed down on her.

"You helped free the Federation Ambassador. You took him from me," he growled into her face. "Now, I will take something from you."

Deanna had fought and wiggled under the weight of him, but there was no escape, no way to fight back. _This isn't happening to me,_ she told herself. _This isn't happening. I have to make it stop; I have to take myself someplace far away._

….

"No," Deanna called again into her empty quarters. She stood and began to pace, hugging her arms close to her, rocking as she walked. She had broken out in a cold sweat, and was breathing rapidly as she fought against the violent memories. She was out of control. There was no one else to control in her place. Control. She had lost all control…just like that day on the planet.

"Stop," she muttered to herself. "I have to make it stop." Her eyes darted around her front room, showing the panic she felt in her heart. Finally her eyes settled on the drawer that held the Fala root. That would make it stop. She could stop feeling, stop…everything.

She just had to stop.

"Hot water with lemon and honey and a kitchen knife," she called to the computer as she pulled the root form the drawer. She took the root and began to crush it with the side of the knife, back and forth, back and forth.

Her hands were trembling so drastically that she could barely control the knife in her hand and she felt it slip on the root and slice into her left palm.

"Ah," she cried out as the knife clattered to the table and she pressed the cut to her lips. "Ohw."

She didn't want to feel, to hurt. It had to stop. She had to make it stop. She wanted to not feel anything, ever again. She wanted it to be over. She had fought the panic for so long. It was enough. She wanted it to be over.

She picked the knife back up and continued to crush the root almost robotically until she had crushed almost half the root that lay on her table.

She stopped and took a moment to take in the mess that covered the table in front of her. She shook her head puzzled.

What was she doing?

Deanna reached back and carefully picked up the cup of water. She slid some of the crushed root onto the back of the knife and pushed it into the drink. Then without giving too much thought, she repeated the motion, adding more root to the water and again before she began to stir the liquid.

Not all of the pulp had dissolved, but she pressed the cup to her lips and took a large gulp.

"Ahh," she cried grasping her throat as it burned. Her mouth tasted almost metallic, like the blood had tasted on her tongue. She tried to wash the taste away as she took another long gulp and winced as the fluid slid down her throat.

Her world was spinning as she pushed away from the table and began walking towards her bedroom. The edges of her vision were fading away and she began to stagger as her feet tripped underneath her. Still she continued to sip at the drink in her hand. It was like a warm, calming blanket was falling over her. The panic was fading. Everything was fading. She took one last large gulp of the liquid and reached to put it on her nightstand as she searched for the edge of her bed to sit down. But the world around her was slipping away. And it was a beautiful relief.

No more fighting.

No more fear.

And then it was all gone.


	23. Recovery 23

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Again I am apologizing for it taking so long to get the next chapter up. I love to hear from you and get your encouragement and feedback. It's been so long, you might want to go read the end of chapter 22 again, just to get back in the groove. I'd love to tell you that the next one will be out faster, but I won't make that promise. I will make it a goal, though. How's that? Hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 23**

The senior staff began to gather in the observation lounge first thing in the morning, socializing amongst themselves as they entered.

"Doctor," the captain greeted Beverly Crusher cheerfully as she entered the room. "So nice of you to join us."

Beverly smiled sarcastically back at her captain. "I apologize for last night, Sir. I was…unavoidably detained."

"So I heard," he replied as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Beverly walked close to the first officer and spoke more quietly. "So, Commander, what is the outcome from our adventure last night, at least as far as my doctor's concerned?"

"I'm waiting for a recommendation from our ship's counselor," he told her as he looked back towards the door. Deanna should be joining them any minute and he was anxious to hear if she had been able to get through to the cocky doctor. He knew he certainly hadn't been able to.

The other members of the senior staff slowly took their seats and the captain began to speak.

"Well, let's begin," he commented before looking around the table and sighing with frustration. "Apparently, we are still missing someone." He turned to his first officer. "Was Counselor Troi planning on joining us this morning?"

"As far as I know, Sir," Commander Riker answered with a bit of a shrug.

The captain tapped his COM badge and spoke. "Counselor Troi, report to the observation lounge."

The group, gathered at the table, waited quietly for the counselor's response, but none came.

Captain Picard looked towards his first officer, aggravated by the delay.

Will wondered what she was up to. She knew better than this. He tapped his own COM badge. "Riker to Counselor Troi." The silence stretched on throughout the room. The rest of the staff members were beginning to look concerned, glancing from one to the other. This was very unlike her.

When it became clear that no answer was coming, Commander Riker turned helplessly back to his captain. What had been a look of irritation was changing quickly, tension growing with every second of silence.

The captain called out to the ship's computer. "Computer, locate Counselor Troi."

"Counselor Troi is in her quarters."

When the captain and first officer locked eyes again, neither of them bothered to hide their apprehension. This was not how she behaved. Something was not right. They communicated with a single nod, and the message was clear- go find out what is wrong.

Commander Riker had an odd sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Without a word he turned to Worf and with a wave of his hand signaled for him to follow. The two of them hurried from the room, leaving the others only to guess what might have happened to keep their friend away from her duties and unresponsive.

Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf walked down the corridor in silence, matching each other's pace as they approached the lift. "Deck 6," Will called and the lift began to move. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck start to prickle. Something was wrong. This wasn't like her. He looked over to where Worf stood and saw an expression he was sure mirrored his own, on edge, alert and determined. Fear…Will also felt fear, but he didn't have time for that right now. This wasn't about his friend not showing up where she was supposed to be. This was about a ship's officer who may have been hurt or injured. He could think of no other reason why she would not answer a page from her commanding officer, unless she _could not._

When the lift doors opened, the two men began their silent, rhythmic march again, until they were standing at the counselor's door.

Will reached out and punched the chime. _One, Two, Three…_ he counted in his head as he awaited an answer. Again that prickling feeling swept over him. He just knew that whatever awaited him was not going to be good. He reached up and rapped on the door twice with his knuckles. "Deanna," he called. Again he ticked off the time. Will nodded to Worf who, without hesitation, keyed in his security override and the doors in front of them slid open.

The two men quickly glanced around the room. Everything was eerily quiet. Though it was mostly dark, the room seemed to be in its usual condition, and there was no sign of Deanna. In unison, they turned to walk towards her bedroom and bath. When the bedroom came into view, Will immediately noticed that the bed looked to be unused, and the room appeared empty. Suddenly a vision of Deanna in the shower, scrubbing her skin till it bled came to his mind and though there was no sound of a shower coming from the bathroom, he took off at a run towards the room farthest from where he stood.

"Commander," Worf called as Will passed him. There was an alarm to Worf's voice that Will had only heard a handful of times, and it stopped him dead in his tracks.

He saw it as soon as he turned his head. Deanna lay crumpled on the floor between her bed and the wall, dressed in her uniform, her skin pale and pasty. Worf was stepping towards her, bending down…and then Will was at her side, with no recollection of how he had gotten there.

"Deanna?" he called, jostling her shoulders. Will quickly tucked his ear to her mouth to see if he could detect a breath. He felt nothing. "Deanna!" he called, hearing the panic in his own voice. He pulled her chest and neck from the ground and rested her body against him. She was… lifeless.

He heard Worf calling a medical emergency, summoning help, but it seemed that his voice was coming from a very long ways away. Will seemed to have been thrown into some sort of a time warp. Even as he reach to feel for a pulse in her neck, his body seemed to be moving painfully slow, as if moving through some sort of thick liquid. After what seemed like an eternity he felt a slow, uneven, faint thump against his fingers and it felt like his own heart had begun to beat again. And then it was there, a slight rise and fall of her chest, and air rushed back into his own lungs as well.

Worf was lifting her feet and Will almost pulled her nearer to him protectively, looking at Worf confused.

"The medical team is on their way. They will need room."

Will only stared at him blankly as if the words hadn't quite absorbed.

"Commander…" Worf called more roughly, pulling his commanding officer from his fog.

Will looked around him at the situation in front of him and his mind fought to gain control of his emotions. He nodded his agreement to Worf and he carefully lifted the upper part of her body and followed Worf's lead, where he carried her legs as he moved her out into the open area at the foot of her bed.

The medical staff burst into the room moments later and began their work, pushing Will away from the clammy head that lay in his arms. He heard them calling words that he wasn't sure he understood, but seemed to tell him what he already knew. Deanna was barely alive.

Will looked around him, but everything seemed to be in a surreal fog. Nothing made sense. Everyone around him was talking, but somehow he was strangely detached. All he could see clearly was Deanna's right arm that lay sprawled on the ground, pale and unmoving. It was the only thing that seemed real as time continued on at a crawl.

By the time that Dr. Crusher came into the room, they were ready to move Deanna to Sickbay. Her heart was being artificially stimulated and some sort of devise had been attached to her side, but he didn't know what it was for. The security chief and first officer followed them blindly out into the corridor where the medical team broke into a run.

"Steady!" Dr. Crusher called as the medical team began to pick up their pace, a nurse rattling off a report as they went.

Worf stayed in the doorway to Deanna's quarters, speaking to a security officer that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. "Secure these quarters. Until we can determine the cause of the counselor's condition, no one is allowed in or out. They are to be considered a crime scene."

"Aye, Sir," the officer responded.

Worf looked over his shoulder to where the first officer stood, looking slightly dazed in the middle of the corridor. "We will be in Sickbay," he said to him as he started out down the corridor.

Will was still trying to grasp what he had just seen and what possibly could have been the cause when he saw Worf pause momentarily by his side and give him a nod. Will nodded in return and the two of them again began to walk, matching each other's pace. Somehow Worf's clear thinking seemed to help his own.

….

"What happened to her?" Will asked Beverly Crusher when she finally emerged from Deanna's bedside.

"I don't know. She doesn't seem to have any physical injuries other than a small cut on her left hand. Her paracortex activity is high, but still within tolerance. There are no known pathogens that we can detect. I don't know what it could be. Her liver is crashed. Her heartbeat is irregular…"

"How long, would you say, has she been unconscious?" Worf asked.

Beverly gave a defeated shrug. "Judging by her metabolic rate, my guess would be about ten hours."

Will was shocked by the statement. He couldn't shake the image of her lying helpless on the floor while the rest of the ship went about its business.

"She's stable for now, but I need to know what caused this before I can do much more," Beverly said helplessly, glancing back to where Deanna Troi lay unconscious.

"We will be starting an investigation," Worf assured her. He looked between the doctor and first officer. It was a place to start. "When was the last time you saw her?" he asked them both.

Beverly shrugged her shoulders, so Will began to speak. "Last night. Right over there," he said pointing towards the chief medical officer's office. "I sent Dr. Turner to have a counseling session. They left together…"

"What time was that?" Worf asked.

"About 19:30," Beverly chimed in. "I didn't see her after that."

"Neither did I," Will said.

Beverly heard an alarm from Deanna's bed across the room. "I have to get back. Let me know what you find," she said before returning to her patient.

Something was wrong. Monitors were alarming and the medical staff around Deanna was moving faster, more frantically. Will felt the fear he had tried to push away flooding back over him. What if something happened to her? They had barely even been speaking to each other. It just couldn't end like this.

But after a few minutes, the alarms stopped and the medical staff seemed to be slowing down. Beverly gave the two men in the corner a reassuring smile as she worked, but it did little to calm Will's nerves. He couldn't keep standing there, helplessly. He began to tap his foot nervously. He needed to do something, something to help her. Beverly had said that she needed to know what happened to her, and all Will could picture was Deanna leading Nathan Turner out of Sickbay the night before.

"I'm gonna go have a word with Dr. Turner," Will finally said to Worf, and be stepped towards the door.

Worf nodded his agreement as he moved with him, he seemed as anxious to do something as Will felt. "Yes, I will find Damon Paule," Worf said sternly.

"Paule?" Will questioned.

Worf thought back to the way Deanna had hung on his arm that night on the way to the gym, "I do not…trust him," he chose his words carefully.

Will thought for a moment about their guest. He had no strong feelings about him either way, except that Deanna had caught his eye. He didn't see what he would have to do with any of this, but if it gave Worf something to do.

"Fine." Will said, still a bit puzzled as he turned to head out the door.

….

"Come in," Will heard Dr. Turner call.

The doors opened in front of him and he found Nathan Turner, sitting at his table. His fork clattered to the table as he stood up. He clearly had not expected the first officer when he called for the person at his door to come in.

"Commander," Dr. Turner said with a bit of a huff. "What can I do for you?"

There was no sincerity in his voice. He was angry and Will could clearly see it. Commander Riker stepped inside just enough to let the doors close behind him. "I want to talk about what happened with you and Counselor Troi last night," he began.

Turner huffed again and turned away, throwing his arms into the air. "Oh, come on! She complained? Really?"

Will felt his own adrenalin spike. "Complained about what?" he asked menacingly.

"Oh come on, Sir. She can dish it out, but she can't take it!"

Before a thought even had time to process through his mind, Will had the younger man by the arm and threw him back until he was pinned up against the wall. "What did you do to her?" he growled at him.

Nathan Turner looked shocked and confused. "What the hell is wrong with you? I didn't even touch her!"

Suddenly Will could see the situation as if he stood across the room, the first officer of the flagship of the Federation, pinning a junior officer against a wall. He loosened his grip and the startled doctor moved away from him, to a position of relative safety, rubbing at his arm. Will knew he had no more hurt his arm than he had hurt his ego the night before. But he also knew that he needed to calm down before he got himself into real trouble.

"What is your problem? So I hurt her feelings? So what! You can't come in here in a rage…"

"Counselor Troi is in Sickbay, unconscious," Riker told him, trying to calm his anger slightly.

Suddenly the doctor seemed to understand the commander's direction and for a moment his cocky exterior crumbled as he went of the defensive. "I didn't touch her, I swear!"

"So tell me what happened."

"She said I didn't have confidence. All I did to her was tell her that neither did she and she pushed me, and then confined me to my quarters! But when I left she was perfectly fine!"

"When did you leave her office?"

"Just before 21:00. And I came straight home, just like she told me to. I can show you- I made a log entry just after I got home." He moved towards his computer terminal. "Here," he said indicating the screen. "I haven't left since. You can check the computer logs." Nathan Turner studied the first officer's face for a moment, trying to judge his mood. "She's mental-," he continued. "I mean seriously, get her professional help, messed up!"

"You would be really smart to shut your mouth right now," Will growled at him before turning to the computer. He didn't want to hear it, especially not from him.

There it was, a log entry made at 21:12. By Dr. Crusher's calculations, whatever had happened to Deanna happened between 22:00 and 24:00. Dr. Turner was off the hook.

"If you ask me, whatever happened…she probably did it to herself," he said determinedly.

Something inside Will snapped. He couldn't hear that. He wouldn't believe that, not from this cocky, disrespectful…"Shut up!" he yelled. "You stupid son of a bitch. You want something to do to occupy your time while you sit here - start packing. As soon as we reach star base, you're gonna get the hell off this ship. You are finished here."

Dark anger filled the doctor's face. "Well, if I'm right, so is your precious counselor," he yelled back at Commander Riker, who was already on his way out the door. The commander didn't react, so he tried again. "Keep it up and you'll be itchin' to join her. How often do you take out your frustration on junior officers, _Sir?" _he goaded him.

Will spun around to face him again. The younger man was cradling his arm as if it had been badly injured. For a moment Will Riker considered hitting him in the face, just to shut him up for a good long while, but _Commander_ Riker thought better of it. He would keep his cool. "You will remain confined to your quarters until further notice, Lieutenant. Is that clear?" He said standing towering over him at attention. "No one on this ship is at all remotely interested in anything else you have to say."

Nathan Turner straightened his body to its full height, moving his arms behind his back in a perfect military posture; his eyes were forward, staring into Commander Riker's chest. "I think the captain might think differently, _Sir." _

If it was a threat, he didn't bother to veil it well. But Riker wouldn't let him get to him. He smiled his best poker grin. "Go ahead and try," Will said, trying to appear more confident than he felt. He turned and began to walk out of the room, then turned back. "Let me know how that turns out for you."

Will heard the doors close behind him as he made his way back into the corridor. _Little piss ant,_ Will thought as he walked. It wasn't true, what he'd said about her. It couldn't be. How would he know? He didn't know her. Something had happened to her. Will didn't know what it was, but he had to find out. And yet, every step he took away from him, he felt the sting in his heart. It stung like doubt… or was it truth?

…

He continued on down the corridor, with no particular destination in mind. But his feet led him anyway. All he knew for sure is that he couldn't go back to Sickbay without some answers. And before he had a plan, he could see her office door in front of him, coming closer with every step.

This was the beginning. Whatever happened had begun here, he was almost sure of it. This was where to start. He walked to the counselor's office door, prepared to enter his security override to gain access, but found it was unnecessary. The door was unlocked.

Will felt that uneasy feeling sweep over him again as the doors opened before him. Deanna never left her office unlocked. There was far too much sensitive information inside that someone could easily access. But as he looked around her office, everything seemed to be in its place. There was no sign of a struggle. There was no sign of any distress at all.

_So she forgot to lock the door. It was just a mistake,_ he told himself as he stepped inside and made his way to her desk. He sat in her chair and looked at her computer terminal.

"Computer, access any logs made by Counselor Troi last night," he called. He knew the log entry would be coded, but it would at least give him a time.

But the computer responded. "There are no log entries made matching those criteria."

"Give me the last Counselor's log," he asked instead. The entry date and time appeared on the screen, awaiting his clearance code. But he had the information he wanted. The last log had been made the day before at 16:46.

If everything was so fine when Dr. Turner left this office, why would the counselor not have entered the meeting in her log? She had confined him to his quarters…why? For what? And then she made no note of it. But why would he lie? Especially about something that put him in as much hot water as that? This didn't make sense and Will didn't like it.

What could he have done to her? There was no sign of physical injury. He was human, not telepathic. He couldn't have injured her in any way like that. But he was a medical doctor. Did he know some other way to hurt her?

Somehow it didn't feel right. It didn't add up. Turner was back in his quarters long before she became unconscious. If he had given her some sort of slow acting poison, she would have had plenty of time to get help.

_So let's try this from his version for a minute, _Will thought, beginning to pace the office._ The session turns into a verbal fight. She pushes him…why? Because she felt threatened. _He circled the room picturing it in his mind. _She tells him to get out, confines him to his quarters and he leaves. Now what, Deanna? What did you do?_ He looked back to the computer terminal. _You didn't make a log entry. You felt threatened…you're scared. You'd want to get out of here, to someplace safe. Home, _Will thought and he followed her trail out of her office and back to her quarters.

The security guard stood dutifully at the doors of her quarters when Will rounded the bend. Will wondered what explanation he could give for wanting entry. Worf had said no one in or out. But with a quick nod of greeting, the ensign stepped aside and the doors opened in front of him. _Get Worf, _Will thought to himself for a moment before stepping inside. _This is his job, not yours. _But he couldn't make himself wait. Something within him wanted to be alone, to try to see what Deanna did and why.

It wasn't as if he didn't know what to expect. He knew what he'd find as he stepped through the doors. He had stood there a few hours before. Nothing. Everything seemed normal. He circled the front room and began to look at every object with more scrutinizing eyes.

As he rounded the table he saw a small knife lying there next to something that had dried to the glass surface. It was like a film of some kind, like she had spilled something and not cleaned it up. _Dinner, _he thought. _She came home and ate dinner. _He picked up the knife and turned it over in his hand. _So where is the rest of the remnants? Why did you get left behind? _He asked the items left on the table. _She didn't lock her office door on the way out, she didn't make a log, now she didn't clean up after her meal? _It still didn't feel right.

Will turned to the bedroom and let out a long sigh. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't want to go back in there. Images of that morning filled his mind, her lifeless body in his arms. _What happened to you, Deanna? _He called out to her. He had to find the answer, so he swallowed the fear and walked into the room.

It was like nothing unusual had ever happened. The bed was made to perfection. The room was clean. There was no sign of the drama that had played out a few hours before. He, again, began to study every object in the room. Then it caught his eye.

On the side of the bed where her body had lain, on the edge of the nightstand… there was a teacup, overturned on its side. It was the only thing in the room out of order. It had been right behind his back that morning, and he hadn't seen it. Will crouched down where Deanna's body had lain.

The cup was empty, and on the floor below the table there was a discoloration in the carpet. He ran his finger along the carpet. It was still wet from where the contents of the cup had spilled. He looked back up at the cup. He didn't want to move it, but he sniffed at it, trying to determine its contents. He could see from the stains left on the inside that it was not hot chocolate, like he had expected. There were no signs of any discoloration. The cup smelt like acid, citric maybe, but bitter. And there was a film around the inside, like the one on the table. It was a puzzle. He seemed to have the right pieces. His mind just couldn't make them fit together. All he knew for sure was that somewhere deep within him, he wanted to go back to sickbay, to see her, to know she was alright.

"Ensign," he called to the security officer at the door.

"Yes, Commander?"

"I want samples of this liquid in the carpet, as well as this cup and the film on the table analyzed. I want to know what they are, right away."

"Aye, Sir," the ensign responded and the first officer strode past him, out of the room.

….

The room was mostly empty now, only a few nurses wandered past occasionally. They had done all they could do for the moment. Her skin was still pale, her lips lacked all color. And yet, he couldn't take his eyes off her, as if hoping his intense study would make the puzzle pieces in his head fit together to form a complete picture.

He did finally break his gaze when he heard Worf walk back into the room. He looked as defeated as Will felt. Will stood and joined Worf where he hovered in the corner.

"Anything?" Will asked hoping that perhaps his friend could assemble the pieces for him.

But Worf shook his head. "Damon Paule was on the Furrati until after 01:00. Did you know that he thought…" but he hesitated.

"What?"

"Never mind. It is not important. Let's just say that they were not…romantically involved."

Will tried not to smile or sigh with relief. He hadn't really thought that they had been. This was Deanna, after all, and even with the way she had reacted, he didn't think she would rebound that fast. But the moment was short lived. It didn't provide any more pieces to the puzzle in his mind, and the frustration returned.

The doors to Sickbay opened again and the captain entered the room and walked towards them. "Update, Number One."

"No real change, Sir," he began. "We have some items being analyzed from her quarters, but no results, yet."

Dr. Crusher saw the men talking and came over to join them.

"How is she?" Jean Luc Picard asked his drained looking friend.

"Stable, for now. I can't promise you she will stay that way, until I know what caused it."

"Gortan Seul has asked that I join him on the Furrati for a few hours to make arrangements for the Torsian delegation," he told his first officer. "I am taking Data with me. Lieutenant Riley is in command, until you or Lieutenant Worf return to the bridge. Doctor," he said turning his attention back to her. "Is there any chance that this, whatever it is, is a danger to the ship?"

"I can't say for sure, but I doubt it."

"And Worf, is there any chance of this endangering the mission?"

"We will not allow that, Sir." Worf responded.

The captain gave a quick nod, preparing to leave. Then he stopped and put a hand on his first officer's arm. "Keep me apprised of her condition," he told him.

"Yes, Sir," Will responded, hoping he didn't sound as helpless as he felt.

With that, the captain was gone and the three remaining officers returned to their silent vigil over their friend.

….

"Laforge to Commander Riker," Will's communicator called into the mostly silent room several minutes later. They had moved their vigil into Beverly's office, to avoid being under foot, though the two men still were anxious for something to do.

"Go ahead Geordi," Will responded.

"Sir, I have the results of the chemical analysis that you asked for from Counselor Troi's quarters."

"Anything useful?" Will asked him.

"I'm not sure, but there sure was something that caught my attention. Not _it_ so much as where _it_ came from."

Will looked around Dr. Crusher's office. Beverly Crusher sat behind her desk, looking through files at her computer terminal, but now her eyes were on Will, her interest piqued. Worf stood, hovering in the doorway, protectively, but his eyes were also on the first officer.

"Let's hear it," he finally told his friend.

"Well most of the compounds were pretty common. Most of the liquid on the floor was water. There was also a compound sugar and citric acid. It matches the last replicator entry from her quarters, which was for hot water with honey and lemon. But she also ordered a knife and the fourth substance is what caught my attention. The film on the table and from the cup was the same. It was Galian Fala root. I don't know what that means, but something about it gave me a bad feeling."

Will and Beverly's eyes locked in a stare as Geordi spoke, and Will felt his stomach sink. The puzzle was starting to come together, but he wasn't sure he wanted to see what the picture was that it would expose.

"What is Galian Fala root?" Worf asked, puzzled, watching his colleagues.

"It is a system depressant. Where would she get Galian Fala root, might be the better question," Beverly told him.

Will didn't have the words to speak. His mind was too busy piecing things together.

"How's she doing?" Geordi asked, but neither the doctor nor the first officer spoke.

"She is stable," Worf finally answered. The reaction of the doctor and first officer was raising his concern.

"If there's anything else I can do… let me know. Laforge out."

The room was plunged into a tense silence, Worf watching the other two closely.

"Fala root," Beverly finally mumbled. "Where did it come from?"

"The replicator," Will finally found his voice. "You put it in the replicator. I brought it back with me and you put it in the replicator, to use on her back." His words sounded more accusing than he had intended. "It's in the replicator." He touched his COM badge. "Riker to Laforge. Geordi, how long does the replicator store its entries?"

Geordi's voice joined the conversation again. "1500 items before it automatically deletes the oldest entry. Is there something you need, Sir?"

Will looked around at the others before he answered. His posture had changed. He wasn't confused anymore, and as much as he hoped he would find another answer, there was a path in front of him and he had to take it.

"Geordi, I need the replicator records for Deanna's quarters, as far back as you have, and her office as well," he added.

There was a bit of a pause before Geordi replied to the unusual request. "Aye, Sir. It will just take a moment. I will send them to Dr. Crusher's station. Laforge out."

"For medical use," Beverly said quietly. "It was for medical use."

"Are you certain?" Worf asked her.

"Computer, is Galian Fala root coded in the replicator for medical use only?" Beverly verified.

"Negative," the computer answered simply.

Beverly felt the rage flare in her. "Who entered Galian Fala root into the replicator?"

"Dr. Selar," came the computer's answer.

Beverly tried to keep her anger in check as she hit her COM badge. "Dr. Selar, report to my office. NOW!" Her emotions won out. Was it possible that a simple medical error had brought them here, to this place?

When the computer chimed, Worf moved forward and turned the monitor toward him, pouring over the replicator log entries.

"There," he spoke, pointing to the log entry on the screen. "She replicated one Galian Fala root."

"It was right after she left Sickbay," Beverly was shocked by the entry. "Were there any more?" She asked.

"Not from the repicator in her quarters," Worf replied continuing to scan his way through the entries. "None from her office."

"So it was just this once then?" Will asked hopefully.

"She did not replicate a fala root last night, Sir. She replicated hot water with honey and lemon as well as a knife. If we search for matching entries…"

The computer took the search criteria and began to highlight the matching entries. They popped up like magic, first one, then another, and another, until the highlighted entries took over the screen and the last piece of the puzzle slipped into its place. The picture was uglier than Will had anticipated.

Almost from the day she left Sickbay, right up until the night before…almost everyday… while she worked… at night. The evidence was there. It was staring him in the face. He couldn't look away.

And then a memory came back to him of picking up a mug from her coffee table, and smelling a bitter, lemony smell. She had said it was tea. It had been in his hand, right in front of him, and he had let it go.

"Worf, go back to her quarters. Search for any more of this stuff. If there's any left, I want it. Rip the place apart if you have to." He could feel his own anger coming to the surface and he wasn't quite sure who to aim it at.

"Aye, Sir," Worf said rising from his chair, and he was gone, leaving the doctor and first officer alone in her office.

The two stood on opposite sides of the room, silent for a moment, before Beverly spoke.

"I told you something wasn't right," she began, shaking her head at him. "She was not okay."

"Don't," Will cautioned her. His blood was boiling, just begging for an outlet for his growing frustration.

"Don't what? Don't you see?!" Her voice was raised as she pointed out to where her friend's unconscious body lay.

"This is NOT my fault," he said quietly.

"You think it's mine?" she accused him. "She didn't belong on the bridge. She was so confused! Why? Why did Amy Soto leave her like this? Why did you ignore it? Why would you sleep with her for god's sake? Couldn't you see how confused she was?"

"Doctor, you wanted to see me?" Dr. Selar asked appearing in the doorway.

Beverly rounded on the member of her staff and shifted her tirade. "Doctor, when you entered Galian Fala root into the replicator system as we left Galia Prime, why did you not code it for medical use?" She asked, not even bothering to lower her voice from its previous level.

Dr. Selar remained perfectly calm. "Why would I have?" she asked.

"It's addictive!" Will yelled.

But Doctor Selar did not react in kind. "No it is not. Dependence and addictive are two different classes of medication."

"Doctor Selar!" Beverly cried. "It is a massive system depressant!"

"Yes, Doctor. As are almost 100 other substances in the replicator system that have universal access. There are also many additional substances that are stimulants, including coffee. We do not code them all for medical use."

"This is not the same!"

"How is it different?"

Beverly again furiously pointed out towards where Deanna lay. "Because in high enough amounts, this can kill a person!"

"In high enough amounts, many…"

"Doctor!" Beverly cried. "Code Galian Fala root for medical use - NOW!"

"Yes, Doctor," Dr. Selar said calmly, then left the room.

Again the two remaining officers were quiet, having taken the edge of their frustration out on the junior officer who just left.

"I didn't know," Will finally said quietly.

"Neither did I. I should have. The liver. It was just a few months ago. I should have recognized it the moment I looked at the scans," Beverly chastised herself as she paced.

"I thought I was helping her," Will continued as he sank down on the chair nearest him. "I only wanted to help her."

"Will," Beverly began, but he wasn't looking at her.

His eyes were down, his shoulders slumped. "I didn't know," he said again. "She lied to me."

"She lied to all of us," Beverly admitted.

"I don't know what to do," he said, hanging his head in defeat. "I could bring her home, but I couldn't rescue her." Will buried his head in his hands. The betrayal, the lies, the front she had kept up for them all, even him, it stung at his heart, and then at his eyes. He felt the tears begin to roll down his cheeks. Part of him was so incredibly sad and the other was angry and all with the same person. The woman he loved, who lay just in the other room fighting for life… what was he supposed to do? Go yell at her failing body?

This was all there was to do, in the relative safety of the office, with only the doctor's eyes on him.

Beverly watched him for a moment. She had never seen him look like this, so utterly defeated, and crying. She wanted to be angry with him, wanted to blame him, instead of blaming herself. But her heart was breaking. She thought about leaving him alone, to let out his own grief. For that moment, she realized how much he loved her, and how he must have felt like he had lost her, to a drug, to herself, to her own hidden pain.

She couldn't walk away from him. All she could do was share his grief. She, also, had failed her friend, her patient. Beverly stepped closer to where Will sat slumped in his chair and put her arms around his broad shoulders. Her cheek lay against his shoulder, and she could feel the shudder of his sobs, before he embraced her in return and she held him while he cried.

….

When Worf entered Sickbay again, he found Commander Riker standing in the corner by Deanna's bed, but he was not looking at her. He almost looked angry. Beverly stood on the other side of the bed, reviewing medical data on her PADD.

Worf looked around to make sure that no one else was listening. "I found this," he said, opening his fist that held the last bit of a root.

"Where?" Will asked, coming over to see what he held.

"It was under the table on the floor. I scanned her quarters and her office. There is no more."

Will sighed in relief, but Beverly shook her head. "No. This isn't the root she replicated. It doesn't make sense. Her liver shows long-term damage. You saw how many times she had used it. That wouldn't have left enough to do this kind of damage," she said gesturing to Deanna's unconscious body. "It would have been a massive amount. Are you sure she only replicated one root?"

"Where else would she have replicated it? We checked her quarters and her office," Will said.

The other two watched as Worf's face fell. He almost snarled. "I believe I know," he told them. "I saw her a few days ago. She was walking out of one of the vacant diplomatic quarters."

The three of them sighed almost in unison. That kind of behavior that would indicate a kind of dependence that none of them wanted to see.

Will sighed before he spoke. "Riker to Laforge," Will called.

"Let me guess," Geordi responded. "You want some replicator records."

"Geordi, have any of the replicators in any of the vacant diplomatic quarters been used in the last few weeks?"

"Hang on," Gerodi said as he began to search. Then there was an unsure pause. "Yes, Sir." He finally answered. "Once, four days ago. One item. A Galian Fala root." For a moment there was silence from engineering as well as in Sickbay. "Sir, is everything alright?"

Will didn't know what to say. No things were most definitely _not_ alright, but he wasn't ready to say it out loud. "Thank you, Geordi, Riker out." Will closed the line with the question unanswered.

"I was right there. It was right in front of me," Worf echoed Will's earlier sentiments.

"You couldn't have known," Beverly assured him.

"She had no reason to be there. I thought it was suspicious. But I did nothing."

Will reached out for his friend, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You trusted her," he told him simply. "We all trusted her."

"We saw what we wanted to see," Beverly said, quietly. "We all wanted her to be okay."

"And she knew it," Will said turning back to look at her pale face. "She knew what we expected from her, so she gave it to us. We didn't fight the illusion she gave us."

The three of them stood quietly by her bed for a moment longer, doling out their own blame.

"What will happen now?" Worf asked.

"Attempted suicide will require her to report to Star Fleet medical."

"What?" Will asked, shocked. The words were like she had slapped him across the face. "No! Beverly, No!"

"What?" Beverly asked blankly. "What did you think would happen? What do you want me to do?"

"Not that! You can't write that in your report!"

"Will, she overdosed on a substance she should never have had. What do you want me to write?"

"You don't know that she was trying to kill herself! You can't know that! And it was in the replicator. Anyone could have gotten access to it. Maybe she didn't understand how dangerous…"

"Do you have any idea how much of this she must have ingested?" Beverly asked, grabbing the remaining root from Worf's hand and pushing it at Will. "Don't tell me she didn't know it was dangerous. It almost killed her two months ago. I don't believe that she didn't' know what she was doing."

"Beverly, please."

"She needs help, Will. She is NOT OKAY! You've tried, I've tired. They can help her. It might be the only way she can get the help she needs."

Will could feel the panic inside him, pounding to the beat of his heart. "She is the ship's counselor for the flagship of the Federation," he pleaded trying to make Beverly understand.

"Who has been through something unimaginable. It doesn't matter what position she holds."

"I can help her," he said desperately.

"NO! Will- NO! STOP! It stops now." Beverly pointed at him sharply.

"She's your friend, and you would hang her out to dry…"

"Stop it!" she yelled back at him. "I would be helping her. You would be helping her. It is the best thing we can do for her."

"Maybe if she wasn't who she is… but she _is _who she is…don't you see?" Will pleaded. "If we let her go there, she will never come back. They are not going to let her come back. Not after this. Not here. Maybe some smaller ship, but never here. If you write that up, her career is over. She'll never make it back here. And I'll…I'll…"

"You'll what?" Worf asked firmly. "_You'll_ what?"

Will turned away from them, tears stinging his eyes again as he hit the wall hard with his palm. _I'll lose her,_ he thought, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"This isn't about you, Will. I have to help her," Beverly chastised him.

The silence dragged on for another moment.

"What if there was another way?" Will asked.

"Like what?" Beverly asked, skeptically.

"I don't know. But if I could find another way…"

"Will, I have to treat her. I have to enter a diagnosis."

"Beverly, please. Give me an hour. Give _her_ an hour."

"To what? What will change in an hour?"

"I just need to think," he said beginning to pace again. "Please, Beverly. One hour."

Beverly looked down at her patient again, her friend. Being too much her friend and not enough of a doctor was what had gotten her here. But Will was right. She would never be back, not on the Enterprise. What if there was another way? "One hour," she told him firmly. She could see the shine of tears in his eyes and it made her wonder what she would do to protect someone she loved. How far would she let him go?

He stepped closer and kissed her lightly on her cheek as he headed out the door without another word.

….

Will sat at the desk in his quarters. His mind was reeling, trying to absorb everything that had happened. He had one hour to make a plan, but he had no idea what to do, where to begin. Maybe he could contact Lieutenant Soto…maybe she would come back. _But she didn't make it better the first time, _he admitted.

Maybe if they got away, together… maybe if they were away from the ship and the people and the pressure... maybe she could talk it out. They could work everything out. And he could watch over her, protect her…from herself. _If she would even agree to go with me._ _And where would we go? _He wondered. Alaska, that was his home, where he felt safe, where he could hide in the mountains from the prying eyes of the world.

Will sighed and rubbed his eyes. They were dry and burning.

No, Alaska was his home, his safe place, not hers. But on Betazed, was there anywhere away from the prying, not of people's eyes, but of their minds? Risa? No, too many bad memories.

He could almost hear Beverly's voice in his head as he sat in his silent quarters.

_Stop it, Will. She needs help! Professional help!_

_She's right,_ he admitted finally. _I don't know what to do for her. This whole time, I thought I was helping and all I did was make it worse. Maybe Star Fleet Medical is the best way. _But he just couldn't resign himself to that idea.

Whenever he had been down and out, Deanna had fought for him, dragged him back, because she knew, no matter how he felt in that moment, that this life, this career, was important to him. And he knew the same was true for her. He had to fight for her. No matter how angry or betrayed he felt. He wouldn't turn his back on her now.

_So what now?_ He asked himself as the minutes ticked by. He didn't know where to find her the help that she needed, and he only knew one person who might.

"Forgive me, Deanna," he said aloud as he began entering the data to send the subspace transmittion.

The screen blinked while he waited for the connection to be made, and his mind was jumping ahead to how he would get Beverly to agree…or the captain…or Deanna…

There was a chirp from the computer terminal and the sound drew Will's attention back to the screen in front of him. When the picture activated, he could see the panic on the older woman's face, and he knew he had nothing to say to remove it. There was nothing to do, but start at the beginning. "Mrs. Troi, I need your help."


	24. Recovery 24

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: I am feedback starved, so it must be time to post a new chapter. I tried to get it done in a week, but I didn't quite make it. Sorry!

**Chapter** **24**

"I should have know," Lwaxana Troi said quietly when Will Riker was finally finished with his story.

"I think we all feel that way," Will told her.

"But _I_ am her _mother_."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment lost in their own thoughts. It was just past 13:00 and he was exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days, weeks maybe. It was as if a part of him had been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole inside him. What he was doing now was just a form of triage, just enough to hold it together until he could heal the wound left behind.

Lwaxana Troi sighed before speaking again. "You do understand what you are risking, don't you William? What it would mean for you if this came apart…"

Will thought about what she said as he ran his hand along his beard. "Yes. I do."

Lwaxana nodded reassuringly. "Then I will make the arrangements here. Contact me when you have spoken to the others,"

"I will," he told her. "Lwaxana," he called as he saw her lean forward to end the communication. "Thank you."

"She's my child. I will do whatever it takes."

"So will I," he told her softly. He saw a soft smile cross her face, the first in the forty-five minutes they had been talking, and then she was gone.

He looked around his darkened quarters and sighed. Now there were just two more people that he had to convince. And Deanna. And the captain. "God, help me," he muttered as he dragged himself up from his chair. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Worf."

"Lieutenant Worf is on the Main Bridge."

"Well let's start there," he said as he walked towards his door.

….

His hour was up. It had been 82 minutes since he had left Sickbay when he walked back through the doors. Beverly was waiting for him, standing between where Deanna lay and her office door.

"You said an hour," she said as he approached her and they turned together to go into her office.

"Hear me out," he said, motioning for her to take a seat.

"The captain is due back within the hour. What do you want me to tell him?"

"I have a plan."

"I don't like it already," Beverly replied sharply. "She needs help, Will. Professional help. More help than she can get from you or me, or anyone else on this ship."

"I agree," he told her. "Just hear me out."

Beverly sighed and took a seat.

"I spoke to Deanna's mother," he told her. "We talked for a long time, and we agree that she needs to go someplace for treatment, but not from Star Fleet. There's a place, on Betazed, on the east shore of the southern continent. It's very respected, very private, and they will understand her. They'll be able to get through to her. The façade she puts up, it won't work for them."

"Okay," Beverly said slowly. "What is it you want me to do?"

"I want you to enter your report as an accidental overdose."

"You want me to lie!"

"No. You don't know that isn't what happened anymore than you know that she did it on purpose. I'm asking you to give her the benefit of the doubt."

Beverly reached for the piece of the Fala root that lay on her desk. "Get a knife, Will. I want you to get a knife and see how much of this you can crush up and still look me in the eye and say it was an accident."

"Beverly, please! You say you want to do what's best for her…so this is what we think is best. So let us do it!"

"Us…by 'us' you mean you and her mother?"

"Yes."

"I don't know what she would make of that," Beverly said shaking her head. "And what about the captain? What do you plan to tell him?"

"Don't worry about the captain. I'll take care of that."

Beverly looked at him skeptically. "And how do you plan on getting her to this treatment facility? And what are we supposed to tell Star Fleet Command? That she's gone on Holiday?"

"Deanna has 122 day personal leave on the books. She's going to take it."

"All of it?" Beverly asked.

Will shrugged and nodded. "As much as she needs, personal leave, no questions asked."

"First of all, you would have to get the captain to approve that much leave, and second…what happens when the 122 days are up and she is not back. What then? Or are you just telling her that she has to get better within 122 days?"

"That is four months from now and I guess I'll have to just jump off that bridge when I get there."

Beverly sighed. "Will… you understand what you're trying to do...Lying to Star Fleet? Hiding this? And what about Worf?"

"Don't worry about Worf. He's agreed. As long as I can get the captain to agree…"

"And you plan on doing that, how exactly?"

"I don't know."

"He can't participate in this, Will. He is the captain of the flagship of the Federation. He can't…" Beverly said emphatically tapping her finger on her desk.

"The fewer people the better," Will agreed. "So does that mean that you'll do it?" he asked her.

Beverly sighed. "What about Deanna? What if she won't agree to go?"

"Then you amend your report, and she goes to Star Fleet Medical Headquarters."

"So we are blackmailing her," she told him.

Will didn't answer her. He turned and looked out the door to where Deanna lay in the bed. He didn't care. He couldn't care. He had to get her help.

"And when it's all over and she doesn't forgive you for forcing her into this?" Beverly asked quietly.

"I'm prepared to deal with the consequences," he told her, never taking his eyes off Deanna. He had to help her, but the truth was, he may lose her either way.

"Bridge to Commander Riker," Worf's voice cut into the room through the communication system.

"Go ahead."

"The captain has signaled his return to this ship. He said that he will be coming to Sickbay before returning to the bridge."

"Understood, Riker out."

Beverly didn't say a word, just looked at Will with her skeptical gaze.

Will looked at her pleadingly, and finally she gave a small nod of consent.

"Oh, there's one more thing," Will said as they stepped towards her office door to await the arrival of their captain. "If this is going to work, she and I will need to leave as soon as possible."

"Like when?" Beverly asked.

"Day after tomorrow. Will she be stable enough to travel?"

"Day after tomorrow!"

"There is a full medical staff at the facility. I just need her well enough to take an 18 hour shuttle flight."

"Will, her liver…"

"Please Beverly, if there's any way."

But before she could answer, the main doors to Sickbay opened and the captain strode towards them. Worf was only a step behind.

"How is she?" Captain Picard asked as he approached the office door.

"Stable," Will answered his captain, taking a preemptive strike against any comment that the doctor might make.

"Any word on the cause?"

Will looked determinedly to the Chief Medical Officer and she looked from Will's burning blue eyes to her captain. She had never lied to him in all the time she'd known him. Never. She swallowed hard before she spoke, trying to hide her misgivings. "We believe it was an accidental overdose of some herbal medications that she was taking."

Worf and Will exchanged a look. She had taken the first step, now it was time to put the plan into action.

"Herbal medications? I was not aware she was taking any medications," Captain Picard said, concern evident in his voice. "What was this that she was taking? And how did she accidentally take too much of it?"

"There were several extenuating circumstances," Worf offered, getting a quizzical look from his captain.

"Including a medical coding error," Beverly admitted, honestly.

The three officers around him looked apprehensively from one to the other. The captain knew there was something they were not telling him. "What is going on here?" he asked firmly, turning to face is first officer directly.

This was it. Will had to take it from here. Could he protect Deanna and his captain at the same time? "Captain, Sir. May I speak with you for a minute?"

Beverly and Worf nodded. "We'll be out here," Beverly said before they scooted away and Will stepped back into the doctor's office, hoping that Captain Picard would follow him. When he turned around, he saw his captain staring at him, looking troubled as he stood firmly just inside the door.

"What is going on here, Number One?"

"I can't tell you," Will said. He held his captain's steady gaze. He was determined to make him understand.

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't," Will corrected.

"Why?"

"Sir, how many times have you made decisions that for some reason or another you could not explain to me? And how many times have I trusted you, blindly?" Will watched as the captain sighed. He was tired and not in the mood for games.

"I'm asking for that same trust from you, right now."

"What happened, Will?" Captain Picard asked him more firmly.

Will did not answer him, nor did he look away.

"Are you telling me that I don't _want _to know?"

Again, Will stayed silent and firm.

Captain Picard looked troubled as he glanced from the door to his Number One, trying to make some sense of what it was his officers were not telling him. Could he just blindly trust? After a long moment, Jean Luc Picard turned back to face his first officer. "What is it you are asking of me, Number One?"

Will sighed heavily before beginning his list of requests. "Deanna needs some leave."

"How much leave?" Captain Picard asked.

"122 days."

"122 days? She just returned to full duty! How much leave does she have accrued?"

"122 days."

"Will-"

"And I need a few days as well."

"Not 122 days," the captain said firmly.

"No, only two. And a shuttle, the Curie, preferably."

The captain's brows shot up. "You are leaving the ship, I assume at warp speed. Do I get to at least know the destination?"

Will hesitated.

"Have you thought for a moment about this mission? About me loosing my first officer and ship's counselor right before an important negotiation? And a shuttle leaving the ship? How will the Torsian ships that surround us perceive that? Have you given this any thought at all?"

"Yes, I have. And I will do everything in my power to ease any tensions that a shuttle departure may cause. But it cannot wait, Sir. We need to get her…" he paused, wondering how much to say.

But the captain did not push for more information. He had gone back towards the door and was watching Beverly Crusher hover over her patient, as Worf stood back, like some sort of bodyguard.

What had happened to her? What medications was she on? And why did Beverly not tell him when he asked about her fitness to return to the bridge? Was it possible that this was _not _an accident? That his ship's counselor was not on any medications, at least nothing prescribed to her?

Will was trying to help, of that much he was certain, but hadn't he said that he thought he was helping the other day when his captain had needed to confront him? It hadn't seemed to help. What had Deanna done to herself? And yet as much as Jean Luc Picard wanted answers to all of these questions, Captain Picard understood his first officers' position. Will Riker would risk himself, and apparently his chiefs of security and medical, but he would not risk Jean Luc being questioned or implicated.

Jean Luc looked back to his first officer. He looked exhausted. His eyes were red, his hair disheveled. He had looked worse a few months back when Deanna was lost on a hostile world. He had tried to save her. But now, looking at her body lying so perfectly still, he wondered if his friend had failed, if they all hadn't failed her.

Without another word, the captain stepped out of the office and approached the other two officers that lingered. Will didn't know what to make of his sudden departure, but followed him to Deanna's bedside.

"I want you to know that I take some comfort in knowing that my officers do not lie to me well," he said looking between the three of them. "Commander Riker has asked me to trust him, and to not ask questions that I apparently do not want to know the answers to. So I have only one question left for each of you," he said looking back and forth between Beverly and Worf. "Do you agree with him?"

"I do, Sir," was Worf's unwavering response.

Beverly hesitated just a moment longer, as she looked down at her unconscious friend. She would miss her so dearly if she left the ship, and yet Beverly understood now what the last few months had really been like for her. "I do," she finally spoke.

It had been a while since the captain had seen his first officer and chief medical officer in agreement on anything. Whatever was happening, the fact that they were in it together made him relent. He turned back to his first officer.

"Arrange for your leave."

The three of them let out a collective sigh.

"Thank you Sir." And with one look back at Deanna, Will was gone.

….

The day was drawing to a close when Captain Picard came back into sickbay. He paused to look at his, still unconscious, ship's counselor. Perhaps it was his imagination, or wishful thinking, but her cheeks seemed to have more color. The mechanical device that had been attached to her side was gone. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully. His heart still felt full of dread and confusion, but he tried to push it away. He had to trust that the three of them, the odd trio that they were, were making the correct decisions.

He continued on to the office where Beverly Crusher sat behind her desk.

"Knock, knock," he said as he stood in the open doorway.

Beverly's head jerked up. Sickbay was quiet, and she was surprised to find him there watching her.

"Captain, come in."

Jean Luc stepped inside and approached her desk. She also looked tired. But there was something behind her eyes… "How is the patient?" he asked.

Beverly seemed withdrawn as she answered. "She is improving. Her heartbeat has stabilized. Her liver function has improved some. I am only keeping her sedated to keep from fighting her to hold still."

Beverly looked from the door, to her desk as she sat quietly waiting, hoping he had not come to get the information from her that he could not from his first officer.

After a long silence, Jean Luc spoke again. "Penny for your thoughts," he offered.

Beverly smiled in spite of herself, coming around her desk to sit next to him on the bench along the wall. "You first," she replied.

"_I'm_ very worried about my friend, my comrade," he told her simply. "Yourturn."

"Please don't ask me…"

"Beverly," he put up a hand to stop her. "I will not ask you to break your confidence. I am only asking if _you_ are alright."

Beverly paused, taking a deep breath. Was she alright? "I was trying so hard to be there for her as a friend that I wasn't a good enough doctor. I should have been able to see…"

Tears were burning her eyes. She turned away from him and tried to fight them back.

"Beverly," he said, reaching out and putting his hand on her shoulder.

The touch was enough to shatter her resolve and tears began to slide down her cheeks.

"I'm her doctor."

"You are also her friend. You don't have to be perfect. No one asked it of you…"

"I asked it of me. I let this happen." She turned back to him, her eyes still glistening with tears. "I…I…"

Jean Luc tentatively reached out for her, and Beverly did not fight it. At that moment, she desperately wanted to feel the comfort his embrace could offer. She cried into his shoulder as she let go of her own grief, her guilt and failure. At first his embrace was tentative, almost reluctant, but as she cried, he let his body relax against hers. She cried until her tears had soaked the shoulder of his uniform, finally pulling away, wiping at her nose and eyes. She hated that she didn't cry daintily. And she knew how uncomfortable crying women made her captain.

But as she pulled away she found him watching her closely. He gave her a small encouraging smile as he brushed a stray hair away from her cheek where it had stuck to the wet surface of her tear stained face. She looked exhausted, as if she could fall asleep standing up. Beverly let out a deep shuddering sigh as she regained control of her emotions. The release had been cathartic, but it left her feeling drained.

"Jean Luc," she began to apologize, but he shook his head to stop her.

"It's alright," he told her, and Beverly relented, giving in to the exhaustion and the comfort of his presence. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment, before giving over to the fatigue and laying down to rest her head across his knee, her head in his lap. She felt his hand brush through her hair gently, before coming to rest in the valley of her neck. With another sigh, she closed her eyes and let the comfort of him wash the pain of the day away.

….

Will stood, waiting for the doors of the guest quarters to open. When they did, Damon Paule was sitting at his table eating his evening meal.

"Commander Riker, please come in."

"I don't mean to disturb you, but I have some questions…"

Damon Paule sighed with frustration. "Commander, I explained to Lieutenant Worf already this morning. I was not even aboard **[the]** ship last night. I'm very sorry for whatever happened to your friend, but I assure you, I had nothing to do with it."

"I know that," Will reassured him.

Paule nodded gratefully. "I am sorry, Commander. She seemed like a delightful woman. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"Actually, that's why I'm here," Will began. "Counselor Troi is ill and requires medical attention that she cannot receive aboard ship. It is imperative that I get her back to Federation space, to a medical facility on Betazed. However, the captain…we all… are worried about what the Torsian armada will make of a lone shuttle departing the ship. Is there a way to make them understand? We mean no harm, but she cannot wait."

"When will you leave?" Paule asked him.

"Day after tomorrow."

"Something has been wrong with her for some time, hasn't it? That is why the doctor hovered over her, why she was not on the bridge when I arrived on the ship…"

"Yes," Will confessed. "We have tried to care for her aboard ship, but it is no longer an option."

"Is it serious?"

"Yes, it is."

Damon Paule stood, almost as tall as Will Riker and nodded. "Then I will make them understand. You, worry about your friend, I will take care of the fleet." Damon Paule offered Will his hand in a gesture of friendship, but Will only studied it for a moment. Did Deanna really see something in him? Or was it just that he was ignorant to what she had been through? At first Will had been pretty neutral to their guest. When he heard about him coming on to Deanna in Ten Forward, he had liked him a little less. But he appreciated the gesture, so he took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Thank you, Mr. Paule."

….

Deanna felt the sting in her neck through the thick black fog that surrounded her, and she reached out to find what had caused the pain.

"Just relax," she heard a familiar voice speak through the fading darkness. The black had turned to grey and then there was white, which faded into lights as her eyes came into focus.

"Where am I?", she asked, though her voice was dry and scratchy and caught in her throat.

"You are in Sickbay, but everything is going to be fine," Beverly's voice spoke again as her face came into focus above Deanna's bed.

"What happened?" Deanna asked. Images filled her mind of dark caverns, with mud along the floors, of a room full of shadows…and pain. Without thinking she reached up for her shoulder. She could almost feel the ache still.

"You were found unconscious in your quarters… yesterday," Beverly told her.

It was like a wave washed over her mind and suddenly the images, the memories were separated from the nightmares, and it all came back to her. The argument in her office with the young doctor, fleeing to her quarters, and the Fala root. The Fala root…

Deana sat up so fast that her head began to spin. The room around her swam as black began to overtake the edges of her vision.

"Hey, hey. Slow down."

"I have to go," Deanna panted, trying to catch her breath as she swung her feet over the side of the bed, trying to run away. She had to hide what she'd done.

She felt two hands grab her upper arms and hold her steady. The arms slowly came into focus, and then the face. Will Riker towered over her. His face was absolutely solemn. She couldn't sense anything clear from him. He was pushing her away mentally even as he held her body close.

"Lay down, Deanna," he said forcefully as he leaned her back over the bed. His words were icy cold.

He knew. She just knew it. She turned her head to look at Beverly who stood on the other side of her bed. She was looking away. Disappointment was etched in her expression.

"I'm fine," Deanna told them defiantly.

"No, you're not fine," Beverly said patiently.

"And you're not going anywhere." Will's voice was firm, and held none of the friendly tones that she was used to hearing.

"Deanna, your liver is barely functioning. It has suffered significant damage from the use of the Fala root."

Deanna felt tears fill her eyes when she heard the word. She couldn't bear to look at either of them. "It wasn't what it looks like," she finally said quietly. "I have it under control," she pleaded.

"No," Will answered her coldly and as firm as she had ever heard him be. "No more lies. I don't want to hear your explanations. I've seen it. We've seen it. You were using it to calm yourself down… before bed, between patients… almost as soon as you left Sickbay. And you have been lying to us, hiding it from us… for months."

"Will," she tried to reach out to him, but he stepped further back from her.

"You were using a drug to get through the day, while you worked. While you were on the bridge!"

"Please," she tried again.

"No! I don't want to hear it." Will shook his head and stepped away from her.

The room was warm enough, but it felt like an icy breeze had swept over her. She felt alone, utterly alone. She could barely sense Will at all. What little she could sense from Beverly was anger and disappointment. She didn't know where to turn. "I didn't mean to… I wanted to be able…" but she couldn't seem to finish any of her thoughts. She wished she could explain why she had done what she had done, but she knew they wouldn't understand. Tears choked at her throat and stung at her eyes.

"Will," Beverly rebuked him sharply, and he nodded in return, knowing he had lost his temper. He turned away from the two of them towards the wall and tried to collect himself.

Beverly turned her attention back to the patient in front of her. "Deanna," she began. "You need help. You are not alright, and I think you know it."

"Beverly," Deanna pleaded with her friend, hoping she would get a more favorable response. "I know. I'm so sorry. I won't use it anymore. I swear. I've stopped."

Will spun around, a glare on his face, but he didn't look at Deanna. He looked over her to Beverly Crusher and shook his head shortly, as if he were acting as some sort of human lie detector.

"I don't think it's that simple, Deanna. You almost died. If Will hadn't found you when he did, you very well may have."

Deanna glanced quickly over to him, just as he turned away again. She could sense something from him. It was pain. Almost a physical, tangible pain. She wondered what it must have been like for him, where he had found her, what he had seen. She couldn't keep looking at him. The pain was too tangible to her. Beverly was safer.

"I just needed it to stop. I never meant…Beverly please…"

"Deanna, you need treatment. Medical and psychiatric."

Deanna felt her defenses flare. "I am a psychologist, Beverly. I think I know what I…"

"You'd think, wouldn't you?" Will broke in with cold sarcasm. "Enough, Beverly. She won't listen. Skip it," he instructed her as if they were working from some script.

Beverly took a deep breath and nodded at him, then turned back to Deanna and sighed. "We have spoken to your mother and we all agree that you should go to Batezed. Your mother has made arrangements for you to admit yourself to the Dorvan Hospital there."

Deanna felt her mouth drop open in shock. "No," she said simply, pulling her legs up to her body in the bed.

"It's an excellent hospital and it has all the services that you need," Beverly continued.

"No," Deanna said again, indignant. "No. That is where the pampered elite go to detoxify. No. I won't go there."

"Then where?" Beverly asked her.

Deanna only shook her head, trying to take it all in. Her head still felt like it was half asleep, and her emotions were conflicted. Guilt and rage churned together. "You spoke to my mother?" she questioned her friend, offended. "What did you tell her?"

"Everything-" Will answered in the doctor's place.

Deanna's eyes turned to meet Will's.

"I told her everything," he said again, not at all ashamed of himself. "_I_ spoke to her, not Beverly. She had nothing to do with any of it. In fact, this whole plan is my idea. So if you want to be angry at someone, or blame someone… it's right here," he said pointing at his own chest. "This is it, Deanna, It's not up for negotiation. But it is your choice. You can admit yourself to the Dorvan medical center, or you can refuse."

"Then I refuse," she told him immediately.

"That's fine. Then Beverly will amend her medical report from accidental overdose to attempted suicide and you will be dragged kicking and screaming to Star Fleet headquarters to be evaluated by the staff at the Star Fleet medical facility, to be released when they see fit, and it will all be there, on your Star Fleet records." His voice was even, but she could hear the threat in his words.

"So your plan was to push me to do what _you_ want me to do," Deanna accused him.

"My only plan was to help you. That's been my only motive. I don't have a hidden agenda, Deanna." He looked away from her, as frustrated and angry as when she had first opened her eyes. Instead he talked to Beverly. "It's Dorvan or Star Fleet Medical. Those are the options." He glanced back at her, but looked away too quickly for her to place the emotion on his face. "I've got things to do. Let me know what she decides," he said to Beverly almost flippantly as he walked away, out of the room.

Everything was quiet for a moment. Deanna wanted to scream through the silence, to let out her frustration. Instead she settled for the tears that came flowing down her cheeks without permission.

"He only wants to help you," Beverly finally said quietly.

"Beverly, please don't make me do this," was all she could say.

Beverly stepped back from her bed. As Deanna met her eyes, she could see that her friend was gone, now it was the doctor who stood in her place. "It is your choice to make," she repeated. "But you don't have too long to decide. Will would need to be back by the time the Torsian delegation arrives. If you are going to Betazed, you need to leave tomorrow morning." Beverly glanced around the small room they had moved Deanna to. It was smaller than the one she had been in when she returned from Galia Prime. "I have other patients I need to check on. I'll be back later. Hopefully by then you will have had some time to think about all ofthis… to clear your head." She turned to walk out of the room, and then turned back. "I could arrange for you to speak with your mother, if that would help…"

But Deanna only shook her head. She looked like a pouting child who had been sent to her room, a deep furrow in her brow.

"Fine," Beverly muttered as she stepped out the door.

_As if I am being ungrateful_, Deanna thought. _They are conspiring against me and they want me to be grateful?_

Before the doors could completely close, they opened again and a young nurse Deanna did not know by name walked into the room. She tried to appear busy checking vital signs and supplies, but after a few minutes there was nothing left for her to do. She simply stood guard by the door.

Deanna stared at her puzzled for a moment, wondering what her purpose was, before it dawned on her. "You are here to stand guard over me?" she asked, her tone bitter and sarcastic.

"I'm only doing what Dr. Crusher asked of me," the young woman replied.

_Guard and spy,_ Deanna thought. With a huff, Deanna turned away from her audience and drew the sheet that covered her up around her chin. She watched her own vital signs on the wall and let the rhythmic beeps of her own heartbeat lull her into a stupor. Her mind was calm again and even and Deanna fought to keep it that way as she sorted through her emotions one by one as if they were dirty laundry, discarding some as irrational, and piling others up, knowing they must be soaked to take the stain of the pain she had hidden away.

The time drifted by in silence, the only sounds in the room coming from the monitors. After an hour of this the doors opened again. Deanna turned her head back to watch as Beverly Crusher walked back into the room, tucking a tricorder into her lab coat pocket.

With a single nod, the nurse stepped towards the door and was gone, leaving the two women alone. They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

"Was that really necessary?" Deanna asked, pointing at the door.

"Lt. Sederas?" she asked, and Deanna nodded. "Yes," Beverly answered.

"To watch my every move?"

"I didn't post her at your door as a spy, if that is your question. But I am also not comfortable leaving you in a room alone," she told her honestly.

"Because I might hurt myself?" Deanna asked.

Beverly only raised an eyebrow.

"If you're so sure that I'm suicidal, why would you diagnose this as an accidental overdose?" Deanna asked her, her frustration showing.

"Forgive me, but I am trying to give you the benefit of the doubt," Beverly answered equally terse.

"But that apparently does not extend to include privacy," Deanna spat.

Beverly stepped towards the bed. "What would you do if you were me?" she asked her. "If it were me lying here instead of you, what would you do? Would you be able to sleep at night if you knew you didn't do everything you could to protect your friend? This is what I have to do to sleep at night, okay? So get used to it."

"Because you don't trust me."

"Because I don't know what to think," Beverly told her, as her voice cracked with emotion and tears filled her eyes. She quickly wiped at them and sniffed away the surge of emotions that Deanna felt from her. "How are you feeling?" she asked Deanna. The doctor had returned. "Is there anything we can get you?"

Deanna sighed, then ran a hand through her matted hair. She made of face of disgust. "I'd love to take a shower," she told Beverly.

Beverly stepped closer to her and offered her hand. "Let's see you on your feet," she offered and Deanna slipped form the bed, clinging to Beverly's hand for support. She was weaker than she'd realized, and the room began to fade to black for a moment before returning to focus.

"Are you okay?" Beverly asked.

Deanna nodded slowly, her eyes closed to stop the spinning.

Beverly helped her shuffle her steps into the shower and helped pull off the sickbay smock she wore. Steam filled the room as Beverly turned on the water and helped her friend inside.

The heat of the water stung a bit at her skin as the water rushed over her body. Parts of her were sore, and she had no idea why. There was a bruise on her side, and another around one of her calves. It was as if the body she was looking at had been out on its own without her for a while, and it was a disconcerting feeling.

"Here," Beverly handed her some body wash and a soft sponge.

Deanna sighed as she leaned back against the cold shower walls. "I'm fine. I can take it from here," she told her.

"I'm sure you could," Beverly said without flinching. She was not going to leave her alone.

Deanna rolled her eyes. "I promise to behave."

"Good. I hope so, for your sake." Again Beverly made no move.

"Are you going to watch me urinate too?" Deanna asked angrily.

"It's me or someone else. Do you have someone particular in mind?"

Deanna huffed angrily and turned away from her friend and began washing her hair.

"I think you should probably get pretty used to it. I hear that Star Fleet Medical's protocols for suicide watch are pretty stringent. But, you've worked there, haven't you. You know what it will be like." Beverly kept her voice neutral, but even with her back turned, Deanna could hear the threat etched into every word.

….

Will paced around his quarters as if he were trying to wear a hole in the floor. It was growing late and he was restless, but all he could do was wait for word from Beverly. He had done everything he could to prepare. The next move was Deanna's.

He tried to eat something, but food really couldn't hold his attention. He knew he should get some sleep. If Deanna consented, the next few days were going to be very long for him, but he couldn't seem to make himself lay down.

"Crusher to Commander Riker," Beverly's voice rang through the communicator.

Will jumped as if the sudden sound startled him. He tapped his COM badge. "Go ahead."

"I hope you are getting some rest Commander. You have quite the trip cut out for you."

Beverly's voice was lighter than he had heard it in quite a while, almost like when she had won a hand of cards.

"She'll go?" he asked.

"I don't think she's thrilled, but she seems to have decided that it beat the alternative."

"Way to go, Doc."

"I'll see you in Shuttle Bay 2 in the morning?" she asked.

"06:00," he told her. "Beverly…" he paused. "Thank you."

He couldn't see the tears in her eyes, or the small smile of triumph on her lips, but somehow he thought they were there.

"Good night, Commander," she told him.

"Good night, Doc."


	25. Recovery 25

Disclaimer: I STILL don't own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters

A/N: I know you all have been waiting. I hope some of you have stuck it out through the process and I wish I had a better reward for you. I don't know why exactly this was so incredibly difficult to write, but it was. Maybe I just need a break. Maybe I'll write some fluff. But this story is officially on hiatus for at least a month. It is a natural break, I promise. And I hope you forgive me, someday. :(

**Chapter 25**

Will awoke early in the morning, dressed, and threw a change of clothes in a travel case as well as a PADD with the Torsain trade agreements in it. If he was going to leave his captain in the days leading up to the negotiations, the least he could do was do his homework. With a swig of coffee and a piece of toast in his hand, he headed out the door to Deanna's quarters.

The security measures had been removed. No one awaited his arrival. The ship was still mostly asleep, with a few members of the night shift just finishing up their duties so they could return home. He keyed in his access code and quietly slipped inside. Everything was how it had been. Worf had had the substance from the table's surface removed; the knife and teacup had been disposed of. He assumed the area of carpet was dry by now.

He went straight to her closet and began packing a bag for her. She wouldn't need much. And if he forgot something, all she would need to do would be to contact her mother, but he still tried to think ahead to the next few days and the things that she might want with her. Night clothes, underwear, some comfortable pants and baggy shirts that she wore when no one else was around… her tooth and hair brushes…he continued to look around her bedroom, but nothing else caught his eye.

As he headed back towards her door he was surprised to hear the chime. He looked around the empty quarters, puzzled. "Come in," he called tentatively.

The doors opened in front of him and his captain stood before him. "Captain," Will said surprised. "I was just ah…grabbing a few of Deanna's things. The shuttle is scheduled to leave in an hour."

"Yes, I saw that. I also received a communiqué from Captain Suel on the Furrati, telling me that he hopes my officer will be returned to full health soon," Captain Picard said with a raise of an eyebrow.

Will only shrugged.

"Well, if you plan to leave on time, you had better be on your way to Shuttle Bay 2. You have a pre-flight checklist that needs your attention. I didn't mean to delay you."

"No Sir, I was just…" Will looked around the room again. He had already said what he was doing. It was the captain who hadn't yet explained his presence. Will looked back at his captain. But before he could ask what had brought the captain here at this early hour, Jean Luc stepped inside and walked to the table at the end of Deanna's couch and picked up a leather bound book that lay there.

"I wanted to wish you a safe…and short…trip. But when I saw where you were, I thought you might be gathering some things for Counselor Troi." He held the book out to Will.

Will knew what it was. It was the book that the captain had given her when she was in Sickbay. He reached out and took it slowly.

"I thought she might appreciate having this with her on her journey," the captain told him.

Will could see the sadness in the captain's eyes and he wondered how well he truly understood what was happening with Deanna. "It's always nice to have something to read to keep you occupied," Will said in reply.

The two men studied one another for a moment, neither willing to express what they were thinking.

"Well," the captain tugged on his uniform tunic. "I will see you the day after tomorrow." He extended his hand to his first officer.

"Yes, Sir." Will shook his hand gratefully.

"Travel safely, my friend," Jean Luc told him sincerely.

"Thank you, Sir." Will looked down at the book in his hand. "And I'm sure Deanna will appreciate this," he said indicating the book in his hand.

With another smile, that somehow seemed full of regret, the captain turned and headed out the door.

_To the bridge no doubt_, Will thought. He looked down at the book in his hand again and he thought back to Deanna trying to keep him from reading whatever was inside as she returned from sickbay all those weeks ago. His curiosity got the better of him and slowly Will opened the front cover.

He immediately recognized the captain's handwriting scrawled across the blank cover page.

_For my friend, Deanna, who always held my hand through the darkness, and whom I have left behind. I'm sorry,_

_Jean Luc Picard_

Will sighed to himself as he closed the book. "It wasn't just you, Captain," he said out loud, though there was no one there to hear him. "We all did."

He took the book and tucked it safely into her travel case amongst her things, swung the bag over his shoulder, and walked out of her quarters, wondering when the next time would be that she would set foot in them. Or would she ever call them hers again?

….

Deanna squirmed in her bed in Sickbay trying to find a comfortable position. Her back was hurting, but none of the doctors seemed at all interested in giving her something for the pain. She wondered if this was Beverly's idea of punishment.

She sat up slowly, noticing the nurse sitting in the corner, charting information on a PADD in her hand. Deanna looked from the nurse to the door. There was no chime, but she could sense the person waiting on the other side. Finally the doors opened and Worf entered the room, though he wouldn't quite meet her gaze.

Deanna watched him pensively, wondering why he had bothered to come if he couldn't even look her in the eye.

With a quick nod, the nurse rose and left Worf. _To guard the patient_, Deanna thought bitterly.

Worf took two steps toward the bed and placed some folded clothes by her feet.

"Commander Riker asked me to bring these to you. Once you are dressed, I will be escorting you to Shuttle Bay 2."

Deanna only continued to watch him.

"Do you need assistance?" he asked puzzled.

Deanna huffed as she reached to the end of the bed for her clothes. "I can dress myself," she snapped and began to get out of the bed. She had to move slowly to keep the room from spinning around her.

Worf remained where he stood, watching her until he was sure she was steady on her feet, and then turned slightly away from her to give her some privacy.

She looked back at him as she reached for her top.

"I can get a female attendant if you would prefer," he offered.

Deanna almost snarled. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone…let her get dressed in peace…With a defiant glance back at him, she took off the smock she wore and threw it on the bed.

Worf lowered his gaze away from her naked body.

_If he's uncomfortable, he can leave, _she thought angrily as she picked up the shirt he had brought her and pulled it over her head. As much as she wanted to make him squirm, she could still feel the relief that covering her body brought her and she hated it.

By the time she was dressed, she had to lean on the bed for support. She felt her body trembling from exhaustion.

Worf approached her slowly, watching her take slow deep breaths. He didn't speak, only offered her his hand.

Deanna looked from his hand to his face. The look in his eyes was maybe more pleading than any she had ever seen, and even when she had tried to get an emotional response from him, his emotions had remained calm and steady.

Unlike when he had entered, he kept a steady lock with her eyes, hoping somehow that she would sense his sincerity.

Slowly Deanna took his hand and he helped her stand. "Whenever you are ready," he offered.

The pleading look in his eyes broke her resolve. She couldn't bear to continue her angry tirade with him. All she knew was that he surely knew what she had done, and yet he was there, helping her, with more kindness and compassion than she had ever felt from him. She would have thought he would have been angry, that her actions were so dishonorable, but he was not judging her, and it gave her the courage to go forward.

"I'm ready," she told him quietly, though she wasn't at all sure that she was; that she was even remotely capable of facing what lay ahead of her.

Worf took her hand and wrapped it around his arm as he escorted her from her room through the open bay and out into the corridor.

Neither of them spoke as they walked, slowly, through the corridors of the ship to their destination. As they entered the turbo lift, Deanna rested against the wall. "I'm sorry," she told him as she struggled to catch her breath from the small amount of physical exertion.

"You are still recovering," he told her simply.

Deanna looked at him for a long moment. "Who told you?" she finally asked.

Worf turned to look at her as well. "No one told me. I was with Commander Riker when we found you in your quarters." Only then was there the slightest hint of anger, disappointment.

Deanna looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said again.

After another pause, she fought for the courage to ask her next question. "Who else knows?" she asked quietly.

Worf paused before answering. "As far as I am aware, Commander Riker, Dr. Crusher and myself."

Deanna was shocked. "The captain?"

Worf shook his head slightly. "Though he did approve of your leave; and Commander Laforge, I am sure, has his suspicions. I know that Commander Riker has done everything in his power to maintain your privacy."

Deanna looked down at her feet again as the lift came to a stop. "He's angry," she said, though it was no more than a whisper.

"That is understandable," he answered as he took her hand again and led her from the lift.

"I told Alexander that I would give you this," he said opening his hand to reveal the small holophoto projector as they continued down the corridor. "I told him you would be leaving the ship for a while, because you are ill, and he thought you might want to have this with you."

Deanna took it from him and, stopping in the middle of the walkway, activated the image. It was Alexander and Deanna on the beach on Betazed. The same photo that Deanna had seen on Worf's desk in his quarters. They were smiling. With a sigh, Deanna turned the projector off and the image disappeared. That was the last time she had been home. And in all her life, she never thought she would be going home like this.

Fear and shame overwhelmed her and tears stung at her eyes, as she clutched the holo projector to her chest with one hand and held firmly to Worf with the other. She couldn't speak anymore. Not without loosing her battle for composure.

When they entered the shuttle bay Deanna saw Beverly and Will talking intently near the nose of the shuttle, but Worf did not stop or greet them. He took Deanna to the back of the shuttle and helped her aboard. He sat her down on one of the two long benches that stretched out on either side of the main shuttle body.

"I am needed on the bridge," he told her as he turned to go. "I will tell Alexander that he will see you …soon," he told her.

Deanna tried to smile at him. She understood Worf well enough to hear what he was trying to tell her. She opened her mouth to speak, but knew immediately that no words would come. Emotion overtook her voice and only a strangled wisp of a cry emerged. She settled for nodding to him. And then he walked away and she was alone, for the first time in more than a day, and she realized she didn't want to be. Tears slid down her cheeks and she began to shake as she clung to the small projector in her hand. Why was this happening to her? Why were they doing this? How had this become her life? She felt completely out of control.

….

"She needs the injections every four hours, like clockwork," Beverly told Will as she placed the hypo spray back into the case in front of her. "And here are her medical records for Dr. Menhdal. I spoke to him yesterday, but remind him that her metabolism has been sluggish so evenly spaced doses…"

"Beverly," Will chastised her. She was hovering again.

"Okay, okay," she said closing the med kit and handing it to him just as Worf approached. "And you're sure you'll be okay? Eighteen hours each way and almost no time there to rest, and no co-pilot…"

"I'll be fine. I'll drink lots of coffee. Don't worry," Will told her. He looked over to Worf, as the three of them huddled together. "How is she?" he asked.

"A bit unsteady on her feet," Worf told him. The other two nodded, as if it were to be expected given the circumstances. "Angry," Worf added. "She seems very angry, and emotional."

Beverly looked to Will, wondering if he was really prepared to be locked in a shuttle with a furious woman for eighteen hours.

"That's alright," Will said casually stepping towards the back of the shuttle. "She can be angry. I'll take angry over dead any day of the week."

"Contact me if she has any unusual physical symptoms," Beverly reminded him.

"The Torsian fleet is expecting your departure in precisely seven minutes," Worf told his friend.

"We'll make it," Will said casually.

"Have a safe journey, Commander," Worf offered.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," he told them both and turned to board the shuttle.

Will stepped in and stowed the med kit with the other bags in the aft compartment. Deanna was sitting on the bench, her knees tucked to her chest as she wiped at her eyes.

"You okay?" he asked her casually as he headed to the controls.

"I'm fine," Deanna told him angrily as she wiped at her last tear. She wouldn't let him see how scared she was.

"Well, we should be out of here in a few minutes."

Will didn't seem to pay her much attention as he went about his work. She tried to get a read on his emotions, but could only sense his focus. Was he ignoring her?

_Fine, _she thought. _Just leave me alone. _She settled in against the bulkhead as the shuttle launched into the air and then slid smoothly forward out of the bay. Will worked steadily, clearing the bay and talking with Data from the bridge.

Deanna felt herself gasp as the Torsian ships surrounding the Enterprise came into view. The sheer number of them was intimidating, even on a galaxy class star ship, but on the tiny shuttlecraft, the sight was more than unsettling. But none of the ships seemed to pay them any mind as Will said his final goodbye to the Enterprise and increased speed, slipping seamlessly between two Torsian trade ships.

The shuttle continued to increase speed until the stars were no more than streaks of light flying by. Will kept himself busy at the controls for a while as Deanna sat silently watching him. But after several minutes there was little left for him to do. He made a log entry and then finally turned to look at her.

He watched her for a moment. She was leaning against the bulkhead, eyes closed, taking slow deep breaths. He could have mistaken her for looking peaceful. But he could read her body language better than that. Her knees were tucked tight to her chest, her arms wrapped snuggly around them, and her thumb of one hand caressed the back of the other, as if she were reassuring herself.

"If I put on some music, would that bother you?" he asked.

Deanna opened her eyes slightly, to look at him. She tried not to sigh. Will Riker was never one to enjoy the peace of silence. It irritated him, made him uncomfortable. He preferred having a distraction. She, on the other hand, never truly felt silence. Even when words were absent, emotions filled the space around her and the quiet could help her interpret emotions more accurately.

"Music is fine," Deanna finally answered him, and closed her eyes again.

Will activated a jazz music file and the sound filled the cabin of the shuttle. Deanna almost smiled as she felt the edge that the silence of the room had brought him begin to fade away.

She was wrapped up in dissecting his feelings and her own. She felt no pressure to communicate with him. She didn't know what she would say anyway.

She heard Will's foot start to tap to the rhythm of the music. He needed something to do.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

Deanna shook her head no.

Will huffed under his breath and Deanna sensed the frustration pour off him, through her closed eyelids. He walked to the back of the shuttle where the replicator stood across from a small table. Behind it, was a lavatory and two bunks. Deanna had slept in them before on occasion. They weren't very comfortable, and were far too small for someone of Will's height.

She felt him cross by her again, preferring to eat in the pilot's seat apparently.

He paused and set a plate next to her on the bench. She waited until she heard him sit down and begin to eat himself before she peered out of one eye to see what it was.

"Eat it," he told her, as he caught her looking.

It was a bagel and a piece of fruit and a mug of hot chocolate. She wished she could have ignored the food, showed him that she didn't need his help, but her stomach churned and growled with hunger and she reached down and broke off a piece of the bagel and brought it to her mouth.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

Will only nodded before turning to read from a PADD in his hand. Every few minutes, Will would look up to watch her nibble at the food that lay next to her. The silence between them dragged on and on, and after an hour, Deanna realized that she too was grateful for the jazz music filling the cabin.

Finally Will stood from his chair. The sudden movement startled her and Deanna actually jumped. But Will simply walked past her to the aft compartment and retrieved something.

Deanna watched silently as he turned to approach her. When he reached for her arm, she pulled away from him, her fear overtaking her better judgment.

Will stepped back from her and sighed in frustration at the situation. He held out the hypo spray for her to see. "It's medication for your liver," he told her calmly. "It's important that it be given every four hours, like clockwork," he continued and Deanna recognized the mocking of the doctor's continued reminding in his voice.

She almost laughed at his familiar joking, but couldn't quite find that much happiness in her heart. Instead she only sighed.

Will took her arm in his hand and pressed the hypo to her skin. It was like a spark shot through her from the warmth of his touch. In that one moment, she realized how much she missed him. She would have given anything if he would wrap his arms around her, protect her…love her; tell her everything was going to be okay. She might almost believe him. But the sting of the medication being pushed into her arm ripped her from the moment of reveling. She hissed at the pain.

"Sorry," he told her, gently brushing his thumb across the slight red mark the hypo had left on her arm. The sensation made her heart pound harder in her chest. But then the feel of his skin was gone and he was moving away from her again.

Deanna felt her heart slow, almost stop as she hung her head. She hated that she couldn't fight her body's reaction to him.

Will puttered about as Deanna stretched out and tried to find a position that was comfortable for her. She was getting very sleepy and her back and legs were hurting.

She wondered how much longer they could bear the silence between them.

After a few more minutes, Deanna gave up. She stood slowly and stretched her body.

Will turned to her with a puzzled expression. "Computer, pause music," he called and the shuttle fell completely quiet. The two of them watched each other for a moment. "Where are you going?" he asked her.

"I'm tired. I was going to lay down on one of the bunks," Deanna pointed in that direction.

"Here," Will stood and walked to the bench across from her and pulled it out to extend further into the isle. Now it was wide enough to lie comfortably on, at least relatively. Deanna didn't know the benches extended like that, but it did make sense. The shuttle was meant to carry four, two bunks, two benches.

"You can lay down here," Will offered and Deanna was pulled out of her realizations back to what he was saying.

Would he really not allow her even that small amount of privacy, she wondered as she watched him. "The bunks are right there, what is it you think I'm going to do?"

"I don't know what you'll do, obviously," he told her and the bitterness that had been in his voice the day before edged back in.

Deanna had assumed that the guard over her in Sickbay had been Beverly's idea, but now, looking at Wills set face, she wondered if she had been wrong. "I'm just going to lay down," she told him.

"Then lay down here," Will said more determined. It seemed they had each drawn a line in the sand and this was the place they had chosen their battle.

"So you can keep an eye on me?" she asked bitterly. She could feel her anger and frustration rising.

"Pretty much," Will answered.

"Well, I'm sorry to be such a bother," Deanna told him snidely. She turned back towards the bunks, ready to ignore him all together.

"Deanna," he started. She could tell he had stood from his chair and was glaring at her.

She turned back to face him, determined to be defiant. "Seriously? There's only so much space in this shuttle. It's not like I can run away. Do you think I'm going to drown myself in the toilet? Strangle myself with a bed sheet? I am capable of lying down on my own. I'm not a child." Her words were short and bitter.

_No, you are more obstinate, _he thought, but he didn't see that it would help the situation to voice his frustrations. "SIT DOWN!" he yelled at her in his best commanding voice.

The two stood glaring at one another for a moment, knowing that the first one to blink or move would loose. The moment dragged on as the two let their stubborn streaks get the best of them.

"Ahhhg," Deanna finally moaned. She knew she'd lost but there was a growing cramp in her foot and she could only stand that still for so long. She huffed back to her seat on the bench. "Honestly," she muttered under her breath.

Will rolled his eyes and let out his own frustrated groan as he sat back down as well.

"Yeah, honestly, what about that?" he asked mostly to himself.

"You're the one blackmailing me!" she yelled.

"That's right," he told her. "I'm the bad guy. I must have forgotten somehow. It's my fault."

Deanna didn't respond to his rant, just continued to glare at him from her seat, her arms folded across her chest. But the lack of response only fueled Will's fire.

"I'm sure I'm the one who pushed _you_ away, lied to _you._ Tell me, how did it feel to pick up _my _limp body and try to see if my heart was still beating? Did it make you feel pretty powerless? How about when _you_ found out I'd been lying, hiding things for months? How'd you feel then?"

Deanna eyes grew wide as he launched attack after attack at her.

"I'm the bad guy. You'll just have to keep reminding me." Will's voice grew calmer, resigned even, as he turned the chair back to face the controls.

"What do you want from me?" Deanna asked, her voice barely a whisper.

For a moment Will didn't respond. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned to face her again. "I want to know why?" he asked softly in return.

Silence enveloped them again as they stared at one another, trying to sense anything from the other that might break the stalemate between them.

"Why what?" Deanna finally asked.

"I want it all, Deanna. I want to know why you lied to me, why you wouldn't trust me. I want to know why you'd use the damn stuff in the first place. I want to know why you told me you were okay when you weren't. You could have come to me. We could have…"

"What?" Deanna asked pleadingly. "We could have what? You want to know why I did what I did? I don't know. I just knew I didn't know what else to do." She fought back the tears that were stinging her eyes. She looked away, staring at the wall opposite her.

Will hung his head and sighed heavily. "You could have come to me."

"I tried…"

"And did I push you away? Did I do something wrong? That night when you left sickbay… you came to me. What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," Deanna said defensively. "You didn't do anything."

"And the next night? Why didn't you come back…tell me you were scared, whatever?"

"It wasn't your responsibility!" Deanna cried. "I needed to deal with it on my own."

"But you didn't _deal_ with it, Deanna. You took drugs!" Will cried standing from his seat.

"It isn't a drug," Deanna said defensively.

Will just gaped at her, completely at a loss.

"It's an herbal…"

Will put his hand up for her to stop. His whole body was nearly shaking with pent up frustration. Why couldn't she see? He shook his head. "I don't know whether to yell at you or hug you or just…" he shook his hands in frustration... "shake you senseless! You are so stubborn! And proud! And selfish!"

Deanna gasped. "I tried to do every thing you wanted, to be everything everyone wanted me to be!"

"You think that's what we wanted? One minute you're walking around, put together, doing your job, and the next you're crumpled on the floor half dead? We were all standing there, begging you to let us help. Me, Beverly, Worf, the captain… What did you think I would do, Deanna? Did you think I'd give up on you? Transfer you? What was it that you were so afraid of if you told any of us the truth? What did we do that was so horrible that you decided that you couldn't trust us?"

Deanna hung her head. "None of you did anything," she told him quietly.

"Then why?" he asked firmly.

Deanna just sat there silently, afraid to look at him, unable to come up with an answer.

"Was it just easier to ditch out on us all? To kill yourself? Do we all mean so little to you? Do _I_ mean that little to you?"

"It didn't have anything to do with you!" Deanna finally shouted in frustration. She stood up to face him. She didn't need his self-righteous lecture. He just didn't understand. "Not everything is about _you!_"

"Ahh!" Will almost screamed at her. He huffed back down into the chair behind him and turned and began pounding keys on the controls in front of him. There was a small asteroid belt in front of them and he took his aggression out on the keys as he altered their course slightly.

"I don't know what you want from me," Deana told him sourly. "Do you want me to be grateful?"

"God forbid," he muttered as he continued to punch at controls, breathing deeply trying to stay calm. "I'm risking my friendships, my career…"

"Why? Who asked you to?" she cried. "Since you clearly can't stand me, why are you going through all this trouble?"

Will punched one last control before spinning around to face her again. "Because I LOVE YOU!" he screamed. "Happy?" he asked without lowering his voice. He knew he needed to tell her, but he hadn't intended to be fighting with her when he said it. "I love you, and I've got the guts to say it while we're both awake."

Deanna took a step back from him and lowered her eyes.

"You told me you loved me, and I should have said it back, right away. But I was scared. I didn't want to screw it up and we had made all these stupid deals before hand… I… I kind of panicked for a minute. But it doesn't change how I felt… how I feel."

The more he spoke the softer and less sure his voice became.

"And then you pushed me away. You were scared, and I get that. And I said some things I shouldn't have. But I tried to show you that I was still there if you needed me, while I was trying to give you the space you said you wanted. But when Worf and I found you… I don't know that I can tell you what that was like. Maybe Worf realized, but… it never crossed my mind that you'd do what you did. It scared me, Deanna. It _scares me." _He said in a fierce whisper.

Deanna sat back down, her eyes studying the hands folded softly in her lap.

"I'm so mad, and sad and scared…I don't know how to make sense of it," he told her, his voice choked with emotion.

For a moment they both wallowed in silence and their own pain.

"I didn't."

Her whisper broke the silence that had grown between them. "I didn't mean to. It wasn't like I was thinking I should kill myself. I never meant to do that."

"Deanna," he began, but she wasn't really speaking to him.

"It was like everything was closing in around me… like nothing was ever going to get better. It hurt so badly. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted the pain to stop. It wasn't that I wanted to die."

Will sunk down onto the bench opposite her. "Then what was it?"

Deanna stopped and considered the question. She thought back to that night and the anxiety that had overwhelmed her. "I guess it wasn't that I wanted to die, but more that I just didn't care one way or the other," she admitted slowly.

Will shook his head slightly. "Deanna, can't you see the problem with that? Can't you…"

Deanna nodded, her eyes low, as if, for the first time, she realized what she was saying.

"Dea," Will reached out to her, but Deanna shook her head.

"Please, just…" she shrunk away from him, as if she couldn't bear his scrutiny.

With another heavy sigh, Will stepped back to the controls, turning his back to her to give her a moment. He picked up the PADD with the Torsian trade agreements that he had been reading earlier, but he couldn't make himself read on. Instead he just listened to the small sounds from the woman behind him.

He could hear her breath coming in short gasps as she fought her emotions, until she gave in and began to cry. After a moment he turned back and found her head in her hands, leaning against the bulkhead. It was a kind of grief and release that he hadn't seen since that first morning she awoke in Sickbay, as all her pent up emotions began to find a release. Part of him wanted to leave her alone, but the other part needed one more answer.

"Deanna," he spoke softly.

Deanna tried to compose herself, as if she had forgotten for a moment that he was there. She wiped at her eyes, straightened her clothes before she turned to face him.

"Please tell me what happened? What would make you do that?"

Deanna only shook her head.

"You said you wanted the pain to stop… what pain? What made that moment so bad?"

"What difference does it make?" she mumbled again wiping at the corner of her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

Will slowly shrugged his shoulders. "I just need to know," he told her. He stood and walked to the bench where she sat and sat down next to her. "Please?"

For a while she couldn't find the words, but slowly the events and emotions found a voice and she told him everything, how scared she had been on the bridge, how everything around her seemed to be a personal attack, about the Torsian trade captain who had leered at her and how she could sense what he wanted from her, how it had made her physically ill, and what Dr. Turner had said to her, how unsure of herself it had made her feel to have someone so heartless see through her so easily, how it left her feeling vulnerable and scared.

Will hadn't realized. He hadn't understood. When he thought he might not want to hear anymore, he reached for her hand and held it tightly, not knowing if he was offering her support or the other way around, and when she had let the whole story out, she looked exhausted.

Will pulled her to his chest and held her tight as she began to cry again. He didn't try to stop her or try to soften the pain. There was no way around it now, but to feel it, to finally deal with it and move on. Time and space slipped past them, largely unnoticed by either of them as she clung to him and let the pain in her soul pour out of her.

…..

Will woke up to the feeling of something trembling against his arms. Deanna was shivering. He pulled away from Deanna's body enough to climb off the bench, sliding her out of his arms and grabbing a blanket to wrap around her.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep. It was only about 21:00. He glanced quickly over the navigational controls of the shuttle and made a quick course correction to maneuver back on course after they passed the asteroid field. When he looked at the chronometer again he realized it had been almost five hours since Deanna's last injection. He cursed quietly under his breath, knowing what Beverly Crusher would say to him if she were there. He moved past Deanna's sleeping body and retrieved the hypo spray from the med kit.

He felt her cool damp skin as he pressed the medicine into her neck. She moaned slightly and pulled away from his touch, but did not wake up.

"Sleeping beauty," he mumbled under his breath. As he slipped the hypo spray back into its place, he looked again to where she lay sleeping. It wasn't just a shiver he was seeing.

Her whole body was shaking, trembling, and suddenly he felt the dread of being alone in the vastness of space.

He pulled the tricorder from the case instead and did a quick scan. He didn't see anything that sent alarms off in his head, but it wasn't exactly his area of expertise either. His Star Fleet emergency medical training was suddenly feeling completely inadequate. He went back to the pilot's chair and looked at their course.

They were hours closer to Betazed than to the Enterprise. In fact they would be there in four more hours, but his yearning for familiarity won out over his desire to not have the doctor harp on him for missing a dose of medication, and he quickly patched through a sub space communication to the Enterprise.

It didn't take too long for the message to reach its destination. Beverly Crusher was in her quarters, dressed for bed, but she answered right away.

"What's happening," she asked, skipping over the customary greetings.

"I'm not sure. Maybe nothing." Will looked back over his shoulder to where Deanna slept. "She's shivering… badly."

"What's her body temperature?" Beverly asked automatically.

Will turned and scanned her again, with the tircorder. "37.1," he answered.

"Normal," Beverly said quietly. "Has she received her injections on schedule?"

Will looked away sheepishly. "It was a little late."

"How much is a little?"

"A couple hours," Will said and almost ducked from the smack that would have come if they had been within arms reach of each other.

"Will!"

"I'm sorry. I gave it to her now. What do I do?"

Beverly shrugged slightly. "Nothing," she finally said. "It will fade as the medication kicks in."

"So it's because of her liver?" he asked, puzzled. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't entirely sure that he knew what a liver did for a body, but it did seem to be one of those organs you needed to survive, at least in most humanoids.

This time it was Beverly who looked away.

"Bev?" he insisted. There was something she was not telling him.

"I synthesized it," she told him quietly. "It won't damage anything. I just didn't want her withdrawing while there was no medical staff…"

"Fala root!" Will shouted, then dropped his voice and glanced back. Deanna had stirred slightly. "Fala root?" he whispered. "Where? In the injections?" He stood to get the med kit.

"Don't you dare throw them out!" Beverly hollered after him. "They are a combination of three medications and just a touch of synthesized Fala pulp. Just enough to keep her body from going through withdrawals while you were out there."

Will stopped and sat back down. "Withdrawals?" he asked more calmly. He hadn't thought about that for some reason. "What else? What will they be like?"

"Chills, dry mouth, aching joints and muscles, irritability… maybe one, maybe all.

"And once she gets to the center? Can they help her?" he asked.

Beverly shook her head solemnly. "She'll have to go through it eventually," she told him.

"I just thought it best that there was a doctor present in case anything went wrong."

Will sighed heavily, and rubbed at his beard. "You could have told me," he said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to make it harder than it already was." Beverly sighed as well.

"How is it going?" she asked.

"Okay," Will told her. "We're gonna be okay, I think."

Beverly smiled softly, thankful that they hadn't killed one another yet.

"I mean, it's not okay right now… but it could be," he told her. Deanna stirred again behind him. She was waking up, and the shivering was getting worse as she awoke. "I should go."

"You're almost there," Beverly offered encouragement.

Will only nodded. "Goodnight, Beverly. Curie out."

He turned back to where Deanna was curling herself up in the blanket more tightly. Her teeth were chattering. "I'm cold," she said quietly.

"I know, " he told her, slipping an arm around her as he sat down. "You're gonna be okay."

"Could we make it warmer in here?" she asked through her chattering teeth.

"I don't think it'll help, but…Computer, increase temperature by three degrees."

The computer beeped in acknowledgement and almost immediately Deanna could feel a rush of warm air from the floor vents. She sighed and tucked her body closer to Will's, grateful for his touch. "I don't feel very well," she told him.

"I know. It's my fault. Your last injection was late. I'm sorry."

"What's happening?"

"Your body is in withdrawal. Beverly gave you something for it. It should help pretty soon."

They sat in silence for a moment before Deanna spoke again. "I'm sorry," she mumbled against the arm that held tightly to her.

"For what?" he asked after another pause. He didn't want to start another fight, but he needed to know.

"Everything," she said quietly. She looked up at him; her large dark eyes brimming with soft unshed tears.

He knew she meant what she said. That unlike the apologies snapped in anger, these were sincere. And there was fear there as well. Fear of what it would take to climb out of the hole that she and the injustices of life had put her in. He kissed her lightly on the head and tucked her to him again and simply waited for the tremors to pass.

Slowly, they did. The ache in her back subsided as well as the nagging headache she had woken up with. There was an alarm from the auto pilot and Will stood and made his way to the pilot's chair. Deanna curled back up on the bench and was content to watch him work.

Silence overtook them for again, but this time, it was not the bitter angry silence that it had been hours earlier. It was more comfortable. Occasionally Will glanced back to check on her.

"Hey," he said after a minute. "The captain had me bring that book he gave you. Do you want it?" he asked her.

Deanna smiled sadly, thinking back to the crew she was leaving behind. She nodded slightly and Will left his seat and retrieved the book, grabbing another cup of coffee on his way back to the pilot's chair.

"You looked at it, didn't you," she asked as he handed her the book.

Will smiled sheepishly, then hung his head in contrition. "I think it's nice," he told her. "He cares about you very much."

Deanna only shook her head. "And what would he say if he knew the truth?" she asked him.

Will sighed heavily as he sat in his chair. "I think he'd say…go get her help. Get her better. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's what he did say."

Deanna nodded again as she began to flip through the collected works of Robert Frost.

Will turned back to the navigational controls and silence again filled the cabin as it had for so much of their journey.

….

"Deanna," she heard him call as he nudged her shoulder. "Come on, time to go."

Deanna sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "Where are we?" she asked confused.

"In orbit above Batezed," he told her. "If we land, there are logs and diplomatic… stuff," he finally decided to call it. It was far gentler than some of the words he was choosing between, "that we'd have to go through. Your mother thought it was best that you beam down from here."

Deanna nodded again, rising slowly to her feet. "And you agreed with her," Deanna figured watching him strap a band to his arm that would allow him to transport directly back to the shuttle.

"Don't get too used to it," he told her lightly. "We had a pretty strong uniting factor this time." He was gathering up her things as they talked, including the book she had fallen asleep reading. "I figure you can shower and change once you're there." He helped her gather the blanket she had wrapped around her and laid it to the side of the bench. He took a deep breath. "You ready?" he asked as they stood facing each other.

Immediately tears sprang to her eyes and her chin began to quiver. "I don't know," she choked out. Fear was overtaking her. It was such a steep hill to climb. What if she didn't have the strength? Will tried to calm her fears. He put his arm around her and tried to sooth her as much as he could.

"You just take it one moment at a time," he said softly. "Step one, we gotta go down there."

Deanna swallowed hard and nodded to him. She was as ready as she would get, and yet as she felt the transport beam press around her, she felt her fear and uncertainty overwhelm her again.

….

When the transporter beam had completely dissipated, Deanna looked around her cautiously. The building was open and spacious with clean lines and modern looking furniture making various seating areas. The walls were neutral colors or others were glass making it hard to tell where the building and gardens outside began and ended.

Plants were placed around the different seating areas and vines climbed one wall near a water feature that echoed its sound of trickling water up through the open spaces above them. There was no desk or visible office, nor were there other people to guide them.

They seemed to be alone, though Deanna could feel the presence of many minds around her. High above their heads were the hallways of other floors and they could see a scattered person or two walking the corridors, but the large waiting area where they stood remained deserted.

Will looked at Deanna almost helplessly, and shrugged.

Deanna only shrugged in return. "Where is my mother?" she finally asked in a whisper, as if the sound of her voice might break the tranquility of their surroundings.

"She is at a conference on Torban 5," Will whispered in return. "She thought maybe it would make you more comfortable if she gave you some space. But she'll be back tomorrow and she said to tell you that whenever you wanted to see her that you could just call and she would be here right away."

"And if I don't call?" Deanna asked, venturing to let her voice rise in volume ever so slightly.

"She _said _she'd give you your space," Will told her. "No guarantees." He looked as her eyes traveled to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said reaching for her arm. "You wanted her here."

"No, not exactly," she confessed.

"Expected her here," he corrected.

"She must be so embarrassed," Deanna muttered, and Will noticed how she shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other like a child.

"That's not why she's not here," he told her, forgetting to whisper as his voice echoed off the walls and floated up through the empty space. "Dea, she's just as worried about you as I am. More," he offered. "She's your mother."

Deanna nodded, but still didn't look at him.

"With all the crazy antics that entails," he added and he saw the corner of her mouth break into what was almost a smile.

A woman with long straight brown hair entered the room and approached them, but she made no effort to greet them, at least not that Will recognized. She walked directly to Deanna and stood before her smiling. He suddenly remembered years ago standing in a Betaziod chapel and having that same feeling as if he were missing the conversation happening right in front of him.

He saw Deanna nod slightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm being very rude. Commander," the woman extended her hand. "I am Lara. I am the physiologist assigned to work with Deanna during her stay. Welcome." There was something soothing, almost musical to her voice as it floated up into the air and mingled with the trickling sound of the water.

Will shook her hand. "Is Dr. Mehndal available?" he asked her.

"No, but I can message him if you wish," she offered as she turned around and began to walk away.

Deanna took a step forward to follow her. It must have been part of that conversation he missed, he thought as he hurried to catch up.

"I have some medical information here from our ship's physician," Will told her.

The woman was silent as she paused her step and watched Deanna for a moment. Deanna nodded slightly again.

The woman shook her head. "Forgive me Commander. I am so completely out of practice," she apologized for what he assumed was her use of telepathy. "Dr. Mehndal received a transmission from your Dr. Crusher a few hours ago. He will meet Deanna in a few hours to go over her treatment plan."

Will shook his head slightly, realizing that she not only had communicated with Deanna but had sent a sort of telepathic message to the doctor. He had to admit, as uncomfortable as it still made him, it was an efficient means of communication.

She only smiled in return. "If I do that again, feel free to nudge me. I sometimes don't realize I am not speaking verbally. And you, Deanna, are quite adept for one that has lived so long on a federation star ship," Lara said as she turned and began walking again

_She means for one half- human,_ Will heard Deanna's words in his head and he had to take a step back to keep from falling over. Deanna only arched her eyebrows and shrugged as if to say "What?" and continued to follow the psychologist down the hall.

Will took all his concentration and gave it a shot. _ It freaks me out when you do that!_

He heard Deanna laugh under her breath as she walked.

"Deanna," Lara called to them as they lagged back in the hall. "Your room will be right through here," she offered and led them out through a walkway through an outside courtyard. The air was warm and sweet.

Will could hear birds chirping in the nearby trees, he thought he might have even heard a monkey. The facility seemed to be tucked against the edge of the jungle on one side and was surrounded by beaches on the other. He could smell the distinctively Betazoid combination of jungle flower and sea air.

_It's beautiful,_ he tried again, feeling as if his first attempt had not been a dismal failure.

Deanna looked back at him, a step or two behind her. She gave him a weak smile and glanced around at their surroundings. _Peaceful,_ she told him a bit reluctantly. _You're not as bad at this as you thought you'd be,_ she continued, a small smile crossing her face.

_As I thought I'd be, or YOU thought I'd be? _He asked her and they smiled together for a moment.

Lara paused and was watching them from the doorway to a small cottage. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she told them. "This will be your room, Deanna. If you will give me those items, Commander, I will get them inspected and return them to you so you can get settled." She put out her arms and Will handed her the bag of Deanna's things as well as the med kit that he had been carrying.

Deanna had turned and walked into the room, staring out at the ocean from the window. It left Will a moment with this woman who would be assigned to Deanna. "Is that really necessary?" he asked her as he passed her the bags. "I wouldn't have brought…"

"Please take no offence, Commander. It is our policy. The items will be returned to her. No harm will come to any of them. I assure you."

"Right," Will conceded. "So, Lara…" he left the sentence open for her to insert her surname.

"Just Lara. We want the patients to be comfortable, but not to put them in a context of politics or culture."

"Okay," he said, hoping that she couldn't pick up the blah blah of what he thought of as psychobabble in his emotions. "You do know who she is, though, right?"

"Deanna is of the House of Troi, a daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed." Her voice was even, as if she was neither impressed by her patients status nor annoyed by the question. "Yes, I know who she is. I also know what she has been through," she told him.

"I doubt…"

"Galia prime is going through a cultural upheaval where females are treated as commodities and forced into lives and marriages with little freedom. She was lost on that world for six days. Six days, in which she was raped and tortured, subjected to utter humiliation and abuse to her body and mind. While there she was exposed to a herbal sedative called Fala root which she has continued to use after her return to your ship and which three days ago she abused to the point of near death, though from what I sense from her the action had little to do with wanting to die and far more to do with feeling powerless to control the life that she was leading."

Will took a step back. When it was put so succinctly, it seemed almost basic, as if anyone should have been able to understand it. "I see that Mrs. Troi has informed you well," he told her.

"I have never spoken to Lwaxana Troi," Lara told him as if she did not understand his connection. "I would very much enjoy meeting her though, I think. Everything I've heard about her would indicate that she is a powerful telepath.

"Then how did you…"

"I read her intake sheet and did my own research on Galian culture. The rest," she inclined her head to look back to where Deanna stood, looking out the window. "The rest she told me, in her own way."

Will sighed. He was clearly mentally outmatched.

"She'll tell me the rest, but it must be in her own time. She must learn to trust me, and for that, I'm afraid I need you to leave."

"But," Will began.

"She trusts you. The two of you are clearly bonded. You seem to have the ability to communicate with one another telepathically."

"You could hear us?" he questioned.

"Of course not. I would not intrude on a private conversation. But I can certainly tell when two people are having a conversation. I have never seen the skill necessary to communicate in that way from a human before. It's truly remarkable. Who taught you?"

Will looked back to where Deanna stood, looking away from him.

"It is just with her then?" Lara asked quietly.

Will nodded. "I can't just walk out," he told her. "I want her to get better, I do, but I can't just walk out."

"The right time will come. You will know when you must go. She will not want you to leave. You are her safety in the storm, and she is clinging to you for support."

"But I shouldn't support her?" he asked puzzled.

"It is not that you should not be supportive, Commander. But it is necessary for her to face her demons. And she needs to face them alone, not hiding behind you." Lara took a step away with the bags over her shoulder, then turned back around to face him again. "Relationships are about coexisting, making the other better and stronger by being together. A healthy relationship is always reciprocal. She cannot find that strong relationship, until she can be strong again, independently." With that, she turned and walked away.

Will stood there for a moment taking in her comments, and wondering what had made her say what she did. He wondered if she could pick up so much from Deanna so quickly, or if he was simply an open book to her. He hoped not, he thought as he stepped into the room.

The room was circular in shape, with one whole section of the wall being windows out to the ocean view. It would have appeared to be a luxury resort rather than a medical and psychiatric hospital. At least it wasn't the psychiatric hospital he'd pictured in his mind.

The furnishings of the room were not as plush or exotic as the view. They were simple. A bed, a dresser, a desk that overlooked the ocean view, with a single chair. The bathroom was equally simple. There was no replicator that he could see. There was a small computer screen on the desk. He assumed it had access to a communications system. There was also a book. It looked to be some sort of a guide to the facility.

"Hey," Deanna said quietly, not turning away from the ocean view as he approached behind her.

"Hey," he whispered back. He slipped his arm over her shoulder and across her chest, holding her tight as he kissed the top of her head. "You doin' okay?"

Deanna nodded slightly. Her body was tucked tight against his and his chin rested on the top of her head. It made her feel safe. She wrapped her hands around the forearm draped across her chest and sighed.

"So what were the two of you talking about? Were you telling her all my secrets?" She was trying to sound light or playful, but it didn't seem to come out right. It sounded as if she were scared, and perhaps she was.

Will's voice was calm in return, soothing. "Not _all _your secrets," he told her. "Just where you tuck stuff on a bad day."

She didn't respond and he couldn't tell if she was angry or just sad.

"I know this is hard for you," he told her.

"I've had a lot of bad days lately," she muttered before pulling away from his embrace and moving to look around her room.

"It seems nice here," he commented. "A little quiet."

"Is it?" she asked honestly. The minds around her filled the space. It didn't seem overly quiet to her. Deanna walked to the edge of the bed and sat down as her companion leaned back on the desk. "I'm sorry if I startled you earlier. It just seemed like the easiest way. I didn't know it bothered you."

"Thought casting?" Will asked surprised. "God, no. It doesn't bother me. It's…it's… I love when you do that. But it can throw a guy off a bit when he's not expecting it. And that was a little out of the blue, that's all."

"It was only about a week ago…" Deanna told him, thinking back to when they had so easily shared each other's thoughts.

"I know, but…that's different," Will said a bit embarrassed.

"How?"

"When we're like that…" Will hesitated.

"Making love to each other?" Deanna asked.

"Yeah, that's different than just walking down the hall, minding my own business."

"I'm sorry. I won't do that anymore."

"I didn't say that…" But Will was interrupted by Lara coming through the open door.

Lara smiled kindly at them both. "I apologize for the intrusion," she said approaching Deanna on the bed. "Here are your things. Is there anything that you are in need of? Have you looked through the book to find the amenities available to you?"

Will picked up the book that lay next to him and began leafing through it.

"No, not yet, but I will. Thank you," Deanna answered standing from her place on the edge of the bed.

"I noticed you only brought one photo. Would you mind me asking who it is?" Lara asked cautiously.

Will looked puzzled. But Deanna only smiled quietly. "He's the son of a friend."

"It looked like Raghta beach outside the central city," Lara commented.

"It was, about a year ago," Deanna told her, thinking of the picture of her and Alexander playing on the beach.

"You looked very happy."

"I was…" Deanna whispered.

Lara smiled kindly again. "I will let you get settled and comfortable. When you are ready, I will be waiting for you in the atrium." Lara turned to walk away when Deanna called out to her.

"When?" she asked.

"This afternoon, this evening, tomorrow…whenever you are ready to begin. I will be there." With that same almost musical serene voice, Lara turned. "Commander," she said with a nod of farewell, and she was out the door.

"That's it?" he asked after she was gone.

Deanna only shrugged, equally puzzled. She took her bag to the dresser and began emptying its contents into the drawers. She placed the holophoto of her and Alexander on top of her dresser and the captain's book on a nightstand next to the bed.

"Did you see this?" he asked her engrossed in the book he was holding. "Therapeutic massage, seven kilometers of walking trails, ornamental gardens.

"I tried to tell you," she told him.

"Meals served in your suite five times a day…how do I get my next shore leave here?"

"You could stay," Deanna offered, hoping she didn't sound overly serious.

Will put the book down and looked at her, thinking of what Lara had told him earlier. "You know I can't," he told her.

Deanna tried to smile, as if it had been a joke, but they both knew that was only partially true.

"Deanna, what do you want from me?" he finally asked her quietly, coming to sit next to her on the small bed. "What am I to you?"

Deanna froze, staring back at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Maybe it's not a fair question, Maybe now is the wrong time to ask it, but I have to know. I can be whatever it is that you need. I just need to know what that is."

Deanna felt the tears sting her eyes again and she closed them tightly in a vain attempt to restrain them.

He hadn't wanted to upset her. But it was the last question that he needed to ask her. He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Her chin quivered slightly as one tear spilt over the dam of her eyelashes and slid down her cheek.

More tears escaped as she opened her eyes and tried to speak. "Imzadi," she said quietly. It was like the desperate call of a child. He wiped at a tear or two that coursed down her face. It seemed that the words in her mind were easier to convey. _My friend,_ she told him.

Will tired not to show the defeat he felt with those two words. He only hung his head for a moment and tried to collect his own thoughts.

Deanna reached out and put her hand on his cheek. _Imzadi, _she repeated as she ran her hand through his hair and around his neck, hugging him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. _My love._

"Please don't leave me," she cried into his chest. "I can't do it alone."

"It's okay," he told her. "I understand."

She could hear the sadness in his voice when he spoke, the absence of hope. "No," she told him, pulling away enough to look into his eyes. "I love you, so very much. But I can't, not now, not like this. You deserve… something better than this," she told him glancing around the room. "Better than a mental patient. Better than me," she finished softly.

Will lifted her chin to make her look at him. "Don't talk about yourself like that," he scolded her. "I love you."

"How can you love me? I don't even know who I am. I'm… I'm lost."

"I know who you are," he told her.

Deanna began to shake her head, though he still held her chin. "No, you don't."

Will only nodded in return. "Yes, I do. And so do you. You just got lost for a while. You'll find your way back," he told her.

"I don't know," she doubted. She looked into his crystal blue eyes and wished she could feel about herself the way he once had, that she could believe in herself that way. Even he was struggling. She could feel his own doubt and reserve in his heart. She had hurt him, and it wasn't a wound that would be easy to repair.

"Maybe, when I've found my way back… maybe." She closed her eyes again, trying to keep her tears at bay. "Maybe you'll still feel…"

Will smiled weakly and kissed the top of her head. He had felt this way a long time. Maybe it was best to wait a little longer. He held her in his arms for a moment longer before he knew that the moment had come. Lara had been right, he just knew. He pulled away from her. "I have to go now, Dea."

Deanna reached out to him again. "You can stay for a little bit longer, can't you?" she asked.

But Will pulled her hands away from him. He wouldn't let her avoid all that needed to happen by hiding away with him. He slipped off the bed and crouched down in front of her.

"I could, but I'm not going to. I was wrong about a lot of things over the last few months, but not this one. I can't do this for you, Deanna. It was wrong of me to try."

Tears flowed freely down her face as she spoke like a frightened child. "Please don't leave me. Don't leave me here alone."

Will put his hand over her knee and caressed her skin gently. "It'll be okay," he told her.

"You don't know that," she snapped at him, the fear getting the better of her.

Will wouldn't let her throw him off. He would keep his cool. "If you need me, you know where to find me," he told her calmly.

"Just stay a few more minutes," she pleaded.

"I love you, Deanna," he told her. He stood up and kissed her head again before turning and making his way to the door.

He glanced back over his shoulder to get one more look at her. She seemed utterly defeated, grasping onto the edge of her mattress, rocking back and forth as she cried.

_Imzadi_, she called out to him again. Will stopped in the doorway and turned to face her. She was looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes wet and pleading.

"Goodbye, Deanna," he said and gave her a hopeful smile.

Deanna took one deep breath and gathered her courage. She tried the best she could to mimic his smile.

With a slight nod, Will turned and was gone.

---

He made his way across the courtyard, back into the open atrium where they had arrived. He was emotionally exhausted and when he got back to the ship he needed to send two messages, one to Beverly and one to Deanna's mother, before he could take a quick nap and heading back home.

As he crossed through the building's open areas he saw Lara, the counselor, sitting quietly on a couch near the water feature. She appeared to be meditating, but Will couldn't stop himself from approaching.

"Commander Riker," she said musically, her eyes opening as he drew nearer to her. "I wish you a safe journey."

Will looked back in the direction of Deanna's small cottage and then to the woman in front of him. "So that's it? You wait?"

"Commander, there is a philosophy that therapy will rarely be successful without the patient's consent and awareness of their disease. When she is ready, she will come to me. It must be her own choice."

"And in the mean time… while you wait?"

"We will make sure she is safe from harm, Commander," she told him simply.

"How can you know that, when she is out there, all alone?"

Lara smiled kindly. "There is more than one way to watch someone, Commander."

Will just stood there, watching her, as she closed her eyes again and he realized that she was keeping an eye on Deanna's thoughts and emotions. "She told us that she was okay," he said softly.

"Except she wasn't," Lara answered.

"No, she wasn't."

"Commander, she will not be able to keep up the duplicity here that she could among the crew of the Enterprise. The key is to make it so she does not feel that duplicity is necessary, so that she can return to her life."

"And how, exactly, do you accomplish that?" he asked skeptically.

"She must face her fears," she said simply.

Will sighed. The simplicity of the theory made him uncomfortable.

"Do you know her greatest fear, Commander?" she asked him.

Will opened his mouth to answer the question, but paused, realizing he didn't have an answer. "Do you?" he asked doubtfully.

"Her greatest fear is not what happened to her on the planet, but that what happened altered who she is in some way, that the person she was is gone forever, and that those around her will not accept who she is now."

"Has it changed her?" Will asked quietly.

"Only if she chooses to allow it to," Lara answered him. "The choices are all hers."

Will nodded his acceptance of what she had told him. "Will she be allowed to contact me?" he asked.

"If she chooses to contact you, we will not stop her," Lara answered. "Though we will discuss the benefits and hazards of her actions, whatever they are."

Will furrowed his brow slightly, unsure if he liked the answer he heard.

"You left at the right time, Commander. Don't doubt yourself. You did the right thing to bring her here and now the hardest thing is leaving her behind. Have a safe journey," she told him again with a smile, and then closed her eyes again and returned to her previous activities.

Will walked away slowly, back to the main section of the room. He realized, not for the first time, that he didn't really care for physiologists, being psychoanalyzed or for their know it all attitude. Maybe he was just uncomfortable with having someone prying in on his mind. It didn't feel like prying when Deanna was digging around in there, telling him how he felt when he would have preferred to not acknowledge it. It was more like a gentle warm embrace. With a small shake of his head, he pulled out of his memories and touched the badge on his arm, activating the transporter beam that would return him to the shuttle.

….

Deanna woke to the sun pouring through the window of her small bungalow. She rolled over and let herself enjoy the view for a moment before forcing herself to think about where she was and why she was there.

Finally she sighed and pulled herself from the bed. She had spent the rest of the previous day, after Will left, alone in her room, struggling for a grasp on her emotions. The head doctor had come to visit with her concerning her medical treatment, and a small woman had brought her something to eat in the afternoon and evening.

By the time the sun was setting over the water that evening, the tremors had returned, as well as the pain in her head and back. By midnight, her stomach was turning and her mouth was dry. She had called the doctors at 02:00 and he had given her an injection of something. It let her sleep, and now Deanna's trembling was more bearable, and the ache in her back could almost be ignored.

Deanna sensed the woman at the door as she had the night before. She waited patiently, but did not knock or do anything else to announce her presence.

_Come in, _Deanna called out to her.

The woman came in with a tray of food and a box. She set the tray down on the desk and brought the box to the bed.

_You are finally awake,_ the woman told her smiling kindly.

"What time is it?" Deanna asked stretching out her back and wrapping a blanket around her to fight the shivers.

"After mid-day," the woman spoke. "You should eat and this came for you today."

Deanna looked at the box lying next to her. It was unmarked. Perhaps it was from her mother. She lifted the lid. Inside was a crystal dish of some kind. She carefully lifted it out of the box and removed the lid. Inside the shallow bowl, there was water and lying in the liquid, a simple blossom. A muktok blossom.

As Deanna moved the bowl, she could hear the slight tinkling of the flower. She smelled the sweet perfume.

"It's lovely," the woman told her.

Deanna smiled again, then reached into the box and found a card. There was no doubt whom it was from, certainly not her mother. She opened the card and saw his handwriting and it brought a smile to her face and filled her with strength.

_You're not alone,_

_Will_

Deanna folded the card again and held it tightly. The woman who had brought her the gift was walking out the door. "Wait," Deanna called. _I don't know your name._

_Myra, _she answered.

"Where would I find Lara?" Deanna asked quietly.

"She'll be waiting for you in the atrium whenever you're ready." Without another word, Myra turned and left Deanna alone.

Deanna carefully carried the dish to her bedside table. It tinkled with every slosh of water with every step. This was it. It had gone on long enough. She reached down and touched the petals of the flower gently. The way home was waiting for her.


	26. Home 26

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: I know I said a month or more. Monday is a month. I don't know how long the next one will take, maybe a couple of weeks. I have a goal to have this story done by the end of August. That would be 9 months worth of work. I think that is enough, don't you? As for why you get another chapter...well I was writing fluff, but I kept getting distracted. This scene kept popping into my head, clothes and all. You will recognize 'this scene' when you read it. Maybe I am just not that good at leaving things unfinished. Maybe the lack of reviews (at least not what I'm used to in comparison to amount of readers) for my other story left me uninspired. I don't know. For whatever reason I came back to this. And now, I am having trouble getting started on 27. I was not going to post this until I had the next one done, but I need some motivation I guess.

So here it is. I hope you all had a good month and are still willing to read and review. Maybe you all were angry with me for leaving this one. Maybe that is why you all stopped talking to me. The silent treatment... hmmmm.

**Chapter 26**

**Three months later**

Will Riker moved through the corridors of the Enterprise anxious to meet the last addition to their crew before they left the starbase on their way to their next assignment. After almost nine weeks of negotiations with the Torsian trade delegation and a week at Starbase 112, he was more than ready to be on their way.

The trade negotiations had been a bear. He had been emotionally and physically exhausted, as they had begun on the heels of his return from Betazed. But he found that the numb feeling that he had carried with him from the moment he had found Deanna's body had eventually started to ease away as they got down to the nitty gritty of the deal.

As soon as the negotiations were through, the Enterprise had made its way to Starbase 112 where they had exchanged some crew members, including their young Dr. Turner, who had spent the nine weeks of negotiations working long isolated shifts in one of the ship's science labs. Will couldn't have very well left him confined to his quarters for the better part of three months during the negotiations and journey. But when Will had returned from Betazed and finally had a moment to talk to Beverly about everything that had happened between himself and Deanna and Nathan Turner, Beverly had agreed with his decision wholeheartedly. She told him firmly that she did not want him back in her sickbay. Beverly wrote the transfer order herself and took it directly to the captain. Will had just laid low and was grateful to be left out of it. Now Turner's replacement was finally boarding the ship and by the end of the day, the ship would be out amongst the stars again.

Will rounded the corner and headed through Sickbay's main doors, just as they opened for someone else. He came to a quick halt before he could crash into a woman on her way out, her hand placed gently over her large swollen abdomen, cradling the child inside of her. Behind her stood Damon Paule, his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Will offered her, stepping out of her path. "I didn't see you there."

The woman chuckled slightly. "I'm getting harder and harder to miss," she told him.

Damon Paule stepped closer to the woman, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, as he began the introductions. "Leila, this is Commander William Riker, first officer. Commander Riker, this is my wife, Leila."

Will noticed the way he paused before the word wife, as if he had been caught doing something untoward. But Will swallowed the comment in his throat, instead offering his hand to the woman and smiling. "Mr. Paule, I thought you had left the ship already," Will said, puzzled.

"I was supposed to have left earlier…"

"It's my fault," his wife interrupted. "I came aboard last night. I wanted to surprise him. But before we left this morning, I started having some labor pains. I thought it would be best to have a doctor take a look before we left."

"Well, I'm sure your visit was a surprise," Will offered, catching the scowling look of warning that he received from Damon Paule behind her. Will reminded himself that it was none of his business.

"When are you due?" Will asked her pleasantly, watching her cradle her belly again.

"Six weeks, give or take. The baby will be half Torsian and half human, so all bets on a precise due date are off. But we'll manage."

"She's got a while still. Definitely enough time to get home and settled," Beverly Crusher said, coming up behind them. "She's just fine."

Will smiled at the woman. "Glad to hear it."

"I'm just glad I got Damon back before he missed any of the really important stuff," Leila said tugging at her husband's arm. "Thank you all for bringing him home in one piece."

"Well, having him with us proved to be much to our advantage during the negotiations, so please accept the federation's gratitude for imposing on you during a… difficult time," he said motioning to her belly.

Leila Paule smiled broadly as she looked between the two men, clearly beaming with pride at her husband.

Damon Paul looked slightly more sheepish. "Well, if you would excuse us, Commander. Now that we have a clean bill of health from the doctor, I think it is time for us to take our leave."

"Good bye Mr. Paule," Dr. Crusher called.

"Travel safely," Will added as the couple made their way out the door.

Will turned back to Beverly Crusher as the doors slid shut behind the couple. The look on her face was something between a scowl and a smirk.

"Did I miss the memo about him being married with a very pregnant wife?" he asked.

"I think we all missed that."

"By design?" he asked.

Beverly nodded wickedly. "Well, I'm willing to bet Deanna didn't pick up on it."

"All that means is that he wasn't bothering to feel guilty about it," Will commented.

"Nice guy, huh, " she added with another nod.

Will shook his head. "I didn't say it."

"You thought it," Beverly scolded.

"But I didn't say it." Will had learned long ago to keep his opinions about the men Deanna Troi showed interest in, or who showed interest in her, to himself. It saved him a lot of trouble and heartache, at least as much as possible. "So, Dr. Crusher, do you have time to head down to Transporter room 4 to meet the newest member of your medical staff with me?"

"Don't you mean _for_ you?"

"_With_ me?"

Beverly smiled and nodded again. "Have I mentioned how incredibly pleased I am to have Dr. Humphrey aboard?" she asked as she began to stroll out into the corridor with the first officer on their way to the transporter room.

"Several times. But I'm not sure I understand why. No offence, but I've read over her record and while she seems well qualified, nothing jumped out at me."

"Will," Beverly stopped in the corridor a bit indignantly. "She is a dedicated pediatrician!"

"Okay," Will looked puzzled.

"I just love what it says about the federation's flagship that we have a dedicated pediatrician aboard." Beverly had a dreamy look in her eye.

"It means we have almost 200 children aboard?" he asked.

"Commander," she scolded him.

Will shrugged. "It means we have a very busy ship?" he tried again.

"It means…" Beverly began, but just as quickly gave up. "Forget it," she told him as they reached the lift. "This is just one of those moments when I am really proud to be a Star Fleet officer."

Will gave a small shrug before stepping onto the lift behind her. "Well, good," he conceded. "Deck 14," he called to the lift, but just before the doors completely closed, a woman's hand slipped between them causing them to slide back open.

"Sorry," Lieutenant Charlotte Brown said as she stepped through the doors. "Doctor," she greeted Beverly. "Commander," she said with a bit of a sneer before she turned her back on them both and watched as the doors slid closed again. "Main Engineering."

Beverly looked from the young lieutenant from engineering and back to the first officer, her eyebrow arched with disapproving curiosity.

Will gave a quick 'what' kind of shrug, but no one spoke again until the lift reached engineering and Lt. Brown left them alone again.

"Oh, please tell me that was a look of 'how dare you turn me down' instead of 'you didn't call me in the morning'," Beverly practically begged.

Will looked back at her shocked. "I don't know what you are talking about," he told her even as the image of kissing Charlotte Brown, in a slightly drunken stupor, flew across his mind.

"Oh my god," Beverly said, disgusted. "I don't want to know." But after a moment longer, she couldn't seem to stop herself. "How old is she? Twelve?"

Lucky for Will, the lift reached their destination. "It's a long story."

"How long of a story could it be?"

"Nothing happened," he told her as he ushered her out, off towards the transporter room.

….

Maybe Will had meant for Beverly to greet the doctor _for_ him, he realized as he quickly excused himself from the chatting physicians and headed back to the bridge, leaving Beverly to show the new doctor around.

"Back so soon, Number One?" Captain Picard asked as Will stepped onto the bridge.

"Yes, Sir. I left Dr. Crusher to show the new member of her medical staff around."

"Oh?"

"Dr. Crusher is… excited to have her aboard," Will told his captain, still a bit puzzled.

"Ah, yes. Something about being immensely proud to be a Star Fleet officer…"

Captain Picard had apparently already heard Beverly's speech.

"So, Number One. Is our business here concluded?"

"I believe so, Sir."

"Mr. Paule had departed?"

"Yes, Sir. He and his wife." Will watched the captain freeze, as well as Worf stiffen in reaction from the corner of his eye. The reaction was exactly what he was looking for and he tried to muffle his own reaction in return.

"Did you say 'wife'?" Captain Picard asked.

Will gave a sly nod.

"I see." The captain gave a small huff. "Well, Commander, if there's nothing else… Lieutenant Torres, please lay in a course for Borrolia."

"Aye, Sir."

"Borrolia?" Will asked curiously. Borrolia was a planet very close to Betazed in location and culture, and his thoughts immediately leapt to Deanna Troi.

"Yes, Admiral Daugherty has requested that we join him at a political reception tomorrow evening."

"Political reception?" Worf asked with a snarl.

"Don't even think about it, Lieutenant. The entire senior staff has been requested to attend. That includes you."

But Will thoughts were not focused on the captain's words, but rather the ship's proximity to Deanna. If he could just get away for a few hours, he could get to her.

"Sir, if there were a way…"

"If the word 'leave' is about to come out of your mouth, don't bother, Number One. The admiral mentioned _you_ specifically."

"Me? Why?" Will asked.

"He didn't say. But I'm sure he'll explain it all when we get there."

Worf huffed under his breath from behind them. "Why do I have a feeling that our next assignment will be political in nature?"

The captain broke into a small smile. "I share your misgivings, Lieutenant. I assure you. However, for now, our orders are to proceed to Borrolia and rendezvous with Admiral Daugherty."

"Course laid in, Sir." Lieutenant Torres spoke.

The captain gave a nod. "Warp 3. Engage."

The captain remained on the bridge for a few minutes as the ship began to speed its way through the stars; then excused himself to his ready room.

Will couldn't seem to get the idea from his mind, regardless of what the captain had said. It would be as close to Deanna as he had been in three months.

He couldn't help himself. He missed her. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think about her, worry about her. It wasn't even noon and already today, he had thought of her more times than he could count. It had been nearly six months since she had served on the bridge of the Enterprise, and yet, there still seemed to be a gapping hole in the senior staff where the counselor should have been. They all felt it. But Will seemed to dwell on it more than the others. He only wanted to know that she was okay. He could leave and be back in less than eight hours.

Will Riker stood from his chair and walked to the captain's ready room door. He could feel his stomach doing flips the more he thought about it. Before he could change his mind, he rang the chime.

"Come," the captain called.

"Sir, if you have a minute," Will began as he stepped inside.

Captain Picard offered Will a seat and he gladly accepted. Will knew that the captain had a pretty decent understanding of what had happened before Deanna left the ship. The captain even seemed to assume that Deanna was on Betazed, but the two of them had come to an understanding that Captain Picard would not ask, and Commander Riker would not tell.

"Captain," he began again.

"You want to go to Betazed."

Will was a little surprised by the captain's intuition. "If I left tonight…"

"No."

"I could be back hours before the reception…"

"No."

"Captain,"

"Will-"

Will Riker stopped his pitch and looked back at his captain's face. He was watching him, his expression full of compassion.

"How long has it been since you have heard from her?" the captain asked softly.

Will hung his head and sighed. "A little over two months."

"Will,"

"If I could just check on her, Sir," Will interrupted. "It wouldn't be more than..."

"Will, no." The captain's voice was firmer.

Will tried to fight down his frustration at feeling somewhat helpless. He covered his mouth with his hand forcing himself to stop talking. Then he ran his hand down his beard.

The captain could see the strain all this had taken on him. "I know you are concerned for her. So am I. But as your friend, I am telling you… I don't think it is a good idea. Let it be when she is ready. And as your captain… the answer is no."

Will stood silently and nodded. Swallowing his own growing frustration he made an attempt to not let his voice betray him. "Aye Sir," he said and quickly turned and was out the door.

He walked back onto the main bridge, huffing as he sat back down in the captain's chair, his eyes boring a hole in the back of Data's head. He would be so close, but Betazed would slip past them, silently no doubt.

….

Will Riker stalked into his quarters, still moping that he would not be leaving the ship like he wanted to. Maybe he just wasn't used to the captain telling him no. He hadn't even let him finish.

"Ahh," Will sighed as he slumped into the chair behind his desk.

He knew what he wanted to do, but at the same time, he wondered why he tortured himself with it almost every night. "Computer, are there any new transmissions from Betazed for me?"

"Negative."

Will's heart sank a little again. "Computer, access personal correspondence, gamma echo 431."

The computer screen came to life in front of him. In the file were stored six messages from Deanna.

In the first two weeks or so, she had written him every few days. The first message was received before he even had made his way back to the ship. The sentences were a bit disjointed, and the thoughts were fragmented. He had a sinking feeling as he tried to make sense of what she was saying. She seemed confused and scared. When he couldn't shake the feeling, and knowing that the trade negotiations were going to start in just a few hours, he showed the letter to Beverly.

"She's in full withdrawal," Beverly said sadly, as she put the PADD down on her desk.

"She's paranoid, confused…I'm sure they are monitoring her medical status carefully. It will take a few days."

"I don't know that this was a good idea," Will said, beginning to pace in her office. "I shouldn't have left her there."

"Will, give it some time."

And he had. Three days later the next letter arrived, and whatever had been clouding her mind seemed to be gone. She was clear and articulate, even hopeful sounding. She said that she had spent the morning walking along the water before spending the day meeting with her therapist. She described the beauty around her as if she had never seen anything like it before. Or maybe she had just found a new appreciation for it.

The next few came every few days, though he noticed more description of what was around her and less substance.

Then almost two weeks after her arrival the second to last message arrived.

_Imzadi,_

_Why have you done this to me? I would never have been so cruel as to lock you in a prison and walk away. You have not written. Mother has not visited. You have all left me – alone. And it is a prison. The walls may be nicely decorated, but it does not change what they are. You say that you love me, but all I have ever received in return is pain and heartache. I hate it here. They cannot help me. Nothing anyone says or does will erase what happened to me. Reliving it every day does not make the pain easier to bear. I hate this place. I hate them and I hate you. _

_If you love me, then come bring me home. But even as I write this, I know you won't. Love is fickle. Maybe out of sight out of mind leaves you with more options. _

_I have never felt so alone. _

_Deanna _

Will had been stunned into silence by the sting in her words. What was happening that had made her so violently angry?

He had written to her, almost every night, even if it were just a quick note. He hadn't wanted her to feel alone. Something was wrong with her. And before he could fully come up with a plan, he received another message.

_William,_

_I received a letter from my daughter today. I have no doubt you will receive one as well. I have spoken to the staff at the facility and they have assured me that she is fine. They tell me that this is a step in grieving. Once she is through it, I will be able to see her, and they will give her the letters that you have sent. But for now, it is best if we leave them to do their work. She is healing, William, and sometimes it is not pretty. _

_I strictly forbid you to interfere in any way. Do not leave your ship. Do not try to be the hero. She doesn't need a hero. She must save herself. _

_However hard this is for you, know that I feel your pain magnified 10 fold. I feel her ache in my heart every night. She is my child, my family. I could reach out to her mentally at any time and yet I must not. Please, William. I know it is not exactly in your better nature, but do as you're told, just this once. Don't make me contact the captain. You know that I will if you force my hand._

_Lwaxana Troi _

_Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed_

Will took a deep breath and tried to fight down the panic in his heart. It was a step. It would pass. He just had to not let her words bother him, and keep moving forward. He waited a week for the next message to arrive. It had been the worst week ever. And even as he opened the file, his heart pounded in his chest almost afraid of what he would read.

_My dearest Will,_

_I'm so sorry for the things I said to you. Not just in my last letter, but for every time I have lashed out at you when I was in pain or afraid. I know that my actions have hurt you. I will never forgive myself for that. _

_What is it about us that makes us hurt each other like we do? Why is it so much easier to push you away than to tell you how I feel?_

_I'm lying in my bed as I write this, listening to the waves of the ocean crash into the sand over and over. It's a destructive sound as they crash and the wave is destroyed. It's like they don't learn, like they can't find a better way. _

_Will, I have to find a better way. And I know now that it has to be on my own. There is no one to lean on now. Please don't write to me anymore. It hurts too much. I can't… I just can't do this anymore. _

_Please forgive me,_

_Deanna_

In desperation, Will had immediately sent one more note.

_Deanna,_

_Please don't say things like that. It frightens me. You are never alone, you never will be. I'm here for you, whatever you need. I won't write anymore if that is what you really want. I don't want to do anything to hurt you. Just please, tell me that you are okay. Please Deanna!_

_Will_

But the message had been returned the next morning; the file had never been opened. He contacted Lwaxana, who told him that she had spoken to Deanna that morning and that she seemed very calm, more peaceful than she had seen her in some time. It hadn't made sense to him, but he did the only thing he could. He waited for Deanna to contact him again.

But she hadn't. That was the last message he had received, though everyday, even two months later, he found that he was still waiting.

"I'm so close," he mumbled as he sat in his quarters alone, staring at the files on his computer screen. He slowly crossed his quarters until he was staring out at the stars as they streaked by. "Am I close enough that you can sense me?" he asked her. He knew better than to think he would get an answer.

….

The six members of the Enterprise's senior staff beamed down together, appearing on the edge of a gathering. There was a very well lit tent at the top of the slight incline, where there were tables and a dance floor. It was a party. A very elegant party. The dignitaries that were walking in small groups around the area were dressed in the finest clothes, some carrying goblets of wine or champagne.

"Well," the captain said smoothing out his uniform. "I'm certainly glad we wore dress uniforms."

Beverly Crusher approached him from behind and leaning in slightly she mocked. "Anything less would have just been embarrassing."

The captain gave her a sharp look as his first officer chuckled. "Let's just keep an eye out for the admiral, shall we?" he said, then began to move up the hill towards the tent.

"I see the Enterprise has arrived!" they heard someone call as they followed a path up the hillside. "Captain!" the admiral called warmly extending his hand.

"Admiral," the captain greeted, returning his handshake.

"So what do you think of it all?" the admiral asked looking around at the gathering.

The captain tried to keep a smile on his face. "Oh…it's all quite lovely."

Will wondered if the admiral knew the captain well enough to hear the absence of sincerity in his voice. It wasn't that it wasn't lovely; it was just that political receptions were not his favorite pastime.

"There are delegates here from more than a dozen federation planets. How she got them all in one place so fast and on such short notice, I have no idea, but I have to hand it to you, Jean-Luc. She is quite the diplomat. And when I asked her this morning where she learned it, she said that everything she knows she learned from you."

"She?" the captain asked puzzled.

"Oh, look at me. All this work and I'm ruining her surprise. There's a beautiful brain behind this event and she was very anxious to see all of you. Let me see if I can find her." The admiral scanned the people who were gathered in the tent. "Ah, yes. There she is."

The admiral gestured to a woman whose back was turned to them. She was wearing a dress made of a cream material that so nearly matched her skin tone that on first glance, Will actually thought she was naked. The dress was backless, with three diamond studded straps pulling over each shoulder, crossing mid back and attaching to the fabric that magically seemed to reappear low across her hips, where the dress flared out into a flowing skirt.

Her hair was dark, though Will could see hints of highlights from being in the sun. Clearly the woman had been planetside for some time. It was piled loosely on her head, letting occasional ringlets fall, cascading down her bare back. She was beautiful.

Then as if she could feel their gaze, she slowly turned to look at the group.

It was as if time stopped for him. Will heard a little gasp from Beverly Crusher who stood to his left, but the rest of the world seemed to almost fade away.

Deanna's eyes locked with Will's immediately, and even as she stepped to the edge of the crowd, she never broke her gaze. He couldn't quite read the expression on her face, until she tried to smile slightly, then bit her bottom lip. She was nervous to see them all, unsure of their reaction to her.

What was his reaction to her? His heart was racing, he was fairly certain he had broken out in a sweat. She looked breathtaking. There was something… different, but he couldn't say what. But just as he was ready to leap for joy, a dark unsure feeling overtook him.

What was she doing here? Here of all places, at a political reception? When had she left the Dorvan medical center? And why? No one had contacted him, told him how she was doing. Did she just give up; decide it was too painful? Did she simply check herself out and go back to her life? And whose life was it? This was not the life she had chosen. This was… her mother's life, not hers.

He felt a shot of pure rage shoot through him. Lwaxana Troi. She was supposed to be on his side, helping him.

And yet, Deanna looked… fabulous. How was he supposed to know what was really going on in her head?

All these thoughts were swirling in his head, pounding in his chest with every step she took closer to her friends, her eyes locked steadily on him, sensing his turmoil, he was sure. Until Beverly Crusher burst from the group and met Deanna half way as the two women embraced.

"Oh my god!" Will heard Beverly mumble as they almost crushed one another. "Look at you!"

Deanna laughed slightly; the smile crossing her face froze Will on the spot. What was it?

"Oh, Beverly! I'm so glad you're here."

"Are you okay?" Beverly asked even more quietly. Deanna only smiled in return, hugging her friend tightly again. Will thought he saw Deanna whisper something, but he couldn't be sure. Perhaps she had said 'later'.

Eventually the two women let go of one another and Deanna turned to the rest of the group. Her eyes locked with Will's once more, just for a moment, before she looked away.

He knew he was staring at her. He couldn't seem to look at anything else. He hoped his mouth wasn't hanging open. If it was, he seemed utterly powerless to do anything about it.

"Deanna," the captain stepped forward and embraced her as well, kissing her quickly on both cheeks. "You look wonderful."

"Ninety days of leave will do that for you," she told him softly, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"We have missed you. You have no idea," he told her.

Deanna's eyes drifted back to Will's for just a moment before she looked back at the captain. "I think I do, Sir."

She moved on to the next nearest person and threw her arms around Geordi Laforge. "Hello Geordi," she whispered as he hugged her in return.

"Hey, Counselor. I have got to take some leave," he teased and the group chuckled. Except for Will. He just continued to watch her with a fixed stare.

"Counselor," Data remarked as she turned her attention to him. He cocked his head to the side as he observed her for a moment. "Your breathing pattern appears to have returned to its previous baseline," he said flatly. "Curious."

Deanna broke into a smile and threw her arms around the android. "Oh, I have missed you Data."

"And I, you, Counselor."

Deanna pulled away and looked at his face before starting to laugh lightly and kissing him on the cheek before hugging him again.

That was it, Will thought as he watched her bury her face in Data's shoulder. The smile. It was her smile. It lit up her whole face; even her eyes sparkled with laughter. He hadn't seen her smile like that since… well, since before Galia Prime.

There were two members of the crew she had not greeted, yet, and they hung back slightly from the others, shoulder to shoulder. Deanna stood in front of them both and let out a deep breath, not seeming to know what to expect from either of them.

Finally it was Worf that stepped forward. "Counselor."

Worf extended his hand and for just a moment as she gazed at his features, Will saw fear flash through her eyes. But just as quickly as he saw it, she closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, the fear was gone, replaced by a warm smile. She didn't say anything to him. She simply slipped into his arms and rested her head against his chest.

"Hi," she finally whispered.

"I am… pleased to see you," Worf told her after a moment as he stepped away from her embrace and took a look at her.

If his mind operated anything like Will's he was thinking of how gorgeous she looked, how the dress clung to her bodice like a second skin… Will hated that he couldn't fight it off, the pang of jealousy that ripped through him. He wondered if Deanna could sense it from him, as after she had greeted everyone else, her eyes finally locked again with his.

The two of them stood staring at one another for a moment that seemed to drag on forever, and left the remaining members of the group shifting awkwardly.

Finally Deanna broke the silence. "Hello, Will", she said quietly.

Will only stared in return. What was he supposed to say? 'What the hell are you doing here?' 'Hi'… Hello, Will? Like that even began to cover it.

After what must have been an eternity Admiral Doughty stepped toward them. "Is there a problem, Commander?" he asked a bit roughly.

Deanna lowered her eyes. "No, there's no problem," she answered for him, trying to give the admiral a reassuring smile, though it fell flat.

"It had always been my impression that the two of you were good friends. I'm surprised to see a reaction…"

But Deanna interrupted. "It's nothing I haven't earned, Sir." Her voice held enough determination to silence the older man.

Will could see that her eyes were beginning to glisten with unshed emotions, and he hated himself.

"Are you alright?" he finally managed to speak. The words sounded awkward, a bit lame even, but they were all he could come up with.

Deanna tried to smile at him in return. "I'm better than I have been in a long time," she answered honestly.

_I hope so_, he thought and Deanna clearly sensed his doubt as her eyes drifted down to his feet.

"Deanna, dear," Will heard her voice and without turning his head, he knew that Lwaxana Troi was going to step in. Lwaxana was making her way down the sloped hillside in a dress that was so tightly wound around her legs that she could barely step a fraction of an inch at a time. She shimmied towards them in her awkward waddle.

"Deanna, they are ready to begin. You will have to visit with your friends afterwards. Right now, you are needed elsewhere."

Deanna glanced over her shoulder to the tent behind her and gave a small nod. "Thank you, Mother."

"Of course, dear," Lwaxana said sweetly and kissed her daughter on the cheek as Deanna passed her and headed up the hill, back to the tent.

"Mrs. Troi, it is an honor to see you here," the captain tried to start out.

Lwaxana only cast him a look over her shoulder. "Yes, Jean-Luc. Very pleased," she sounded as if she were almost annoyed at his greeting as she turned her gaze firmly back to his first officer.

"And what is it that you think _you're_ doing?" she asked him smugly.

Will's eyes flew wide. "What _I'm_ doing?" He pointed in the direction Deanna had taken. "What is _she_ doing here?"

"She is fulfilling her obligations," Lwaxana replied firmly.

A cruel, bitter huff ripped from Commander Riker's mouth before he turned away as if he might walk off and never come back.

"She_ has_ obligations-"

But Will spun on his heals and turned to face the woman angrily. "Right. The dutiful debutante. How could I have forgotten?"

Lwaxana Troi was not backing down. She took him on, toe to toe. "I think we have been here before, Commander."

Will made no attempt to hide his disgust. "Different planet, same general conversation."

"What my daughter chooses to do with her life-"

"This isn't her life!" Will cried. "This is your life!"

Lwaxana continued, ignoring his outburst. "-is her decision. I would have thought that you learned long ago that I do not have a great deal of influence over her."

Will tried to take a deep breath, to slow the adrenalin pumping through his body. "We had a deal," he told her. "This wasn't it."

"In what way?" Lwaxana asked, her head held high.

"Commander," the Admiral interrupted a situation he had no hope of comprehending. "Deanna Troi organized this whole event. This is most certainly _her_ doing."

Will turned away from the admiral, back to Deanna's mother and rolled his eyes. "Dinner parties? You have her planning dinner parties?"

This time it was Captain Picard who stepped in. "What are we doing here, Admiral? What is this about?"

The guests around them were quickly making their way up the hill to the tent. Clearly something was beginning.

With one look over his shoulder, the admiral shrugged. "You're here because this has everything to do with your ship's next mission. But perhaps it would be better if I let them explain it for now." He motioned to the tent and began to head off, the Enterprise senior staff trailing behind him.

Will Riker hung back, glaring at the woman next to him.

"You've underestimated her, William." Her voice had lost its harsh edge. "You'll see." With that, Lwaxana made her own way, waddling up the hill, leaving Will Riker to cross the distance alone.

….

The tent was quite crowded by the time a woman Will did not recognize stepped to the podium on a small stage. "I wanted to thank you all for being with us this evening. It's a beautiful night, a wonderful occasion, but one with a serious topic…"

Will tried to listen as the woman launched into a speech about the rights of all sentient beings, but he couldn't stop looking for Deanna. He couldn't see her in the crowd. Her mother, on the other hand, was easy to spot. She stood amongst the other dignitaries, listening intently.

_Deanna planned this?_ He thought. _Why? What is going on?_ Then a few words from the speaker caught his attention. Women's rights… oppression… and Galia Prime.

Will was still looking around; finding equally confused looks on his colleagues' faces when the speaker caught his attention again.

"She deserves our appreciation, and hopefully she will feel pressured into saying a few words. Ladies and Gentlemen, Deanna Troi."

The tent filled with applause and finally he spotted her. She was at the foot of the podium, shaking her head slightly. Her loose ringlets bounced across her shoulders. The speaker motioned for her to take the stand, and after a bit of coaxing, she relented and made her way up to replace the speaker.

"Thank you," she told them as the crowd fell silent.

Will suddenly felt nervous for her. A few months ago, she couldn't bear to eat in Ten Forward. Now she was supposed to speak in front of easily two hundred people?

"Thank you, Sella. You have been wonderful. And I wanted to say thank you to all of you for coming here tonight. I know some of you feel strongly about this issue, others of you came because I asked you to. And I know that. And no matter what brought you here… I am grateful."

Will could see her gaining her footing. She was growing a bit more comfortable with every word. One glance over towards Lwaxana Troi showed Will that she clearly thought she had trained her daughter well.

Deanna seemed to pause for a moment, taking a breath. "As many of you know, I spent six horrifying days on a small planet, not so very far from here, as their government collapsed and radical forces took over. Six days that have changed my life forever."

Will watched her fight back her emotions for a moment, before she continued.

"But I learned so much in those six days, about life, about myself. I learned that I have been blessed with wonderful family and friends… a career I love, and can't wait to get back to. I learned how fortunate I am to be who I am and to come from the world that I did. I have always been free, to pursue any path that I chose. There have never been limitations on my choices or freedoms because of my race or gender. But that is not the case for many women or other refugees throughout our galaxy. And tonight, we are here to raise awareness to the plight of the entire female population of a small planet, not so vary far from here, called Galia Prime. This is an issue that cannot afford to be ignored or pushed under the rug."

He watched as she took another long breath, before scanning the crowd, much to his surprise, until she found him. She smiled a very faint smile, before continuing to speak.

"A very kind hearted, wise man asked me, before we headed down to the planet together, all those months ago, if it bothered me that half the planet was being held hostage, and that we were only being sent down to rescue eighteen of them."

She looked away from him, down to the ground as if she were ashamed. "The truth was, it didn't. It wasn't my problem, and Star Fleet does not involve itself in the internal affairs of other worlds. But I was wrong." She suddenly raised her head, and locked eyes with Will again across the room. "I'm sorry." Her voice choked with emotion, and she broke the eye contact. "It bothers me now. And I can't turn a blind eye to their suffering again. Thank you," she said softly as the guests began to applaud. She quickly made her way down from the podium and back into the crowd.

"Wow," Will heard Geordi say somewhere nearby. "I was not expecting that."

The captain turned to face them all, his eyebrow arched looking questioningly from the doctor to his first officer.

Beverly only shrugged.

Will felt like someone had clocked him in the head. He felt like he was doing really well to still be standing.

"So now do you see, Captain?" the admiral asked as he turned to face them. "For the next thirty days, Deanna Troi has the official title of Diplomatic envoy. And the Enterprise will be accompanying her."

"Where?" Will asked.

"First to Starbase 115, then on to the federation summit on Ura 5. Once this mission is concluded, she has assured me that she wants nothing more than to return to her post on the Enterprise. But this… I think this is personal."

"But how…" the captain began, but the admiral raised his hand to interrupt.

"I know you have questions, Jean-Luc. And I will be happy to answer all of them aboard the Enterprise, with your staff, first thing in the morning. For now… it's a party. Enjoy yourselves." With that, and a slight pat to the captain's shoulder, Admiral Dougherty headed off to mingle with the crowds.

….

The senior staff took a moment to shoot questions at one another, none of which any of them had answers to, before members of the crowd made their way into their circle and the crew was mingling, whether they liked it or not.

Will escaped as quickly as was socially acceptable and made his way to the front of the tent. Deanna was greeting throngs of guests around her, but he saw her looking at him, once or twice. A few times he was even pretty sure she was trying to make her way to him, but there were many people who wanted to have a word with her that she couldn't seem to escape.

Finally, Will walked to the edge of the tent near [to] where a table was filled with desserts. Occasionally someone would stop next to him, say hello, taste one or maybe two of the options that the table had to offer before heading off again. One way or another, he figured, Deanna would make her way over in that direction. Even if she didn't want to talk to him, the chocolate would serve as an effective lure. He leaned against a pole of the tent and waited.

"She came home two weeks ago, …" a voice came from behind him.

Will turned to meet Lwaxana Troi as she shuffled up to him. "Mrs. Troi," he began.

"Tut, tut! First you yell, then you interrupt," she shook her head with mocking disapproval.

Will sighed and let her continue.

"The medical center said they had accomplished what they wanted to do. And she has tried to be open with me. But I must tell you; there are times still that the pain is almost more than I can bear. She is stronger than I am." Lwaxana's eyes glazed over into her memory. "One night the pain I could sense from her, it drove me to tears, and she must have heard me crying. She tried to close her mind to me more after that. But it is to protect me from the pain, not herself. And even you must see that the pain has been tempered with… purpose, I suppose. She enjoys life, is grateful for it."

"I didn't expect…"

"She wanted it that way. She said fast would be better. She didn't want it drawn out, with too many questions building up between you."

Lwaxana moved so she stood directly in front of him. "I believe that she is ready to return to her life. The pain is not gone, but she has come to a kind of peace with it. And tomorrow morning, I will give her back to the family to which she belongs."

"Me?' Will asked puzzled.

"I meant the Enterprise. But if you would choose to get your head out of your…"

"I…" Will interrupted her. "I get it." Will didn't want to tell her that her daughter had told him she didn't want anything to do with him.

"Oh, William," Lwaxana sighed with frustration. "She didn't mean ever. She meant she needed space to pick herself up, on her own. She needed to know she could stand on her own two feet. I think she has done that. Don't you?"

Will blew out his held breath. "I really hate when you do that," he told her.

Lwaxana smiled and glanced from where her daughter stood greeting a guest to Will hiding by the dessert table. "Won't you always wonder which one she came to find?" she asked motioning to the chocolate.

"As long as she keeps heading this direction, I really couldn't care less."

With a knowing nod, Lwaxana shuffled off back into the crowd.

An orchestra had begun to play and a large area in the middle of the tent became a shimmering home for many dancing couples. Will watched them dance while he awaited his turn.

"I meant what I said," she told him quietly as she slipped near his side, hiding in the shadow of the tent pole.

Will turned to face her, suddenly feeling nervous. "Which part?"

"I meant all of it. But I meant that I was sorry… for everything." She watched the way he eyed the glass in her hand. "It's fruit juice," she told him.

"I didn't ask," he told her shaking his head.

"You don't have to."

"You don't owe me-"

"Yes, I do. I was addicted to a foreign substance. I should be cautious of other substances that can be potentially addictive. And my friends are right to watch me for any indication…"

Will sighed helplessly trying to put his thoughts and feelings into words. "Deanna, earlier…"

"I understand," she assured him. "I violated your trust. I can't expect to get that back by putting on a pretty ball gown and doing up my hair." She tried to smile, or even laugh at her own joke, but the tension between them was too thick. "I know it will take time for you to trust me again… if ever."

"Deanna," he chastised.

"No, Will. In my recovery I learned that I must take responsibility for my actions, for the pain that I have caused others, and that I need to make amends. I don't know how to fix what I broke between us, or how to explain why I had to pull away from you completely, other than to tell you that by pulling away completely, I saved some hope that we might fit together again, at some point in the future."

Will didn't know what to say. He was feeling far too many emotions all at once. Instead of talking, he looked helplessly at his own shoes.

Deanna only nodded her understanding. "I won't push you. All I can do is hope to rebuild trust, over time. Until then, I'll take what I can get and be grateful."

Her voice echoed with sadness that he didn't want her to feel. But still he said nothing. He didn't know what to say.

"Okay," Deanna sighed, having said everything she felt she had to. She took a step back, ready to move on, but even as she moved, Will reached out for her hand. He wasn't ready to let her go, yet. He caught the very end of Deanna's fingers and held them tightly. It was like some form of electric shock passed between them, the power of the touch sending shock waves through both of them from head to toe.

At first Deanna only stared at their hands, but then she looked up into his eyes and smiled hopefully as Will moved his hand to intertwine their fingers as he pulled her a step closer to him.

"I've missed you so very much," Deanna spoke with tears in her eyes.

"I hated every minute of it." Will pulled her into his arms and held her as close to him as he dared. The sensation of her against him was making him lightheaded. His hands enveloped her back. It was a release of so many emotions, but feeling the warmth of her bare skin under his hands was nothing shy of erotic. He tried to fight back the urge to run his hands along the diamond-studded straps that held the fabric to her skin.

She wasn't helping. Deanna wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. Her hands ran up and down his neck as they held one another, her fingers brushing thorough the edge of his hair. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.

As she pulled away finally, her lips passed so close to his that he had to remind himself they were in a room full of foreign dignitaries to keep himself from kissing her deeply, letting his tongue meander… _Stop it!_ He yelled at himself and let her slip from his arms.

A group of people were beginning to draw close to the table where they stood, hiding by the deserts.

Deanna glanced around them as if looking for a place for them to hide. Finally she turned back to him. "Dance with me," she suggested.

Will would have preferred to walk in the growing darkness around them, but her idea was far more appropriate. He placed his hand on her back and led her out onto the floor with the other couples, just as the orchestra began to play a slow, melodic song. Their fingers intertwined as they danced, his hand enjoying the feeling of her soft skin in the arch of her back. Any lower would have been inappropriate, but in his mind he was imagining the last time ha had ran his hands unashamed over her body. The more caught up in the images in his mind he became, the less he noticed whether there was anyone or anything around them.

He felt Deanna let go of his hand and press both her hands flat against his chest, resting her head against him as well. He knew they were swaying slower and slower, until he wasn't sure they were moving at all, or even if his eyes were open or closed. His own memories were flowing freely in his mind. And then he realized that these were more than just memories. There was something else. He could almost hear it, feel it, that gentle caress of Deanna in his mind; the kind of sharing and intimacy that he had only experienced while making love to her.

He looked down at her sharply, where she stood cradled against his chest, her eyes closed, her breathing in a steady even rhythm.

"How are you doing this?" he whispered to her.

Deanna's eyes slowly opened as if he was yanking her from a dream. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked quietly.

Will pulled her to him again, and rubbed the bare skin of her back. "No. But why? What are you trying…?"

"It's the only way I know to show you," she pleaded. Her eyes fluttered closed again, and Will felt a wave of emotion wash over him. At first it was like jumbled pictures, they didn't make sense. But as the amount of information slowed, the images began to come into focus and the emotions that came with them flowed freely. They were Deanna's emotions, not his own. At first there were images of caves, then a room, but they were just glimpses, the emotion was sheer terror, and Will clung to Deanna tighter, to protect her or himself, he didn't know. But then it was over and the images were of people, friends aboard the Enterprise. There was a mix of so many things, gratitude, friendship, but also shame and despair.

He saw flashes of the night they made love, and there was no regret, there was only love and passion, and then there was the night Deanna left Sickbay with Dr. Turner. Fear shame… pain. And then there was darkness.

His eyes flew open to find Deanna watching him, her eyes wide, filled with tears. He realized his hands were holding onto her wrists and that they were trembling.

"I'll stop," she told him.

Will let go of her wrists and pulled her shoulders to him. "Don't stop," he whispered against her hair. "I want to see. I've just never done anything like this before."

The pictures began again, except this time he was watching himself, and he was yelling at her. She wanted to die; the guilt was so strong and he winced against her. Then there was the medical facility. Different rooms and places, the ocean, the jungle… at first it was peaceful. Then he almost felt trapped, claustrophobic. And just as quickly he felt the rush of every other emotion he had felt from her, all at once. Then there was only peace, even hope, and slowly he opened his eyes realizing the image he was seeing was them, right now.

The journey was over. They stood in the middle of a crowed dance floor staring into one another's eyes. The music had stopped. It was like a vacuum was sucking in all the sound from the room as Will tried to reorient himself. Then the group began to clap and the sound was almost deafening on his senses.

Deanna looked suddenly spent. "Here," he said quietly and led her to a nearby table where they could sit down. "How did you learn to do that?" he asked her.

"It was a form of memory retrieval they taught me at the center, a way to review a situation with your therapist. But I thought, maybe, if I concentrated hard enough…" she looked at him hopefully.

"It worked," he told her. "Though I think I have a bit of a headache," he admitted reaching for his forehead.

He reached for her trembling hand and caressed her wrist. "You are okay, aren't you," he said as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"Better than I have been in a long time, even before Galia Prime."

"And what about all this, Deanna?" he said gesturing to the party around them. "How does all this fit in?"

Deanna sighed. "I have to help them, Will. Someone has to help them. It's what I need to do. It… It's how it all fits together inside me. I can't explain it."

"But, it's got to be painful."

"It can be, but it's also healing. It's given me a purpose that I needed, taking emotions to actions."

"So what do I do to help?"

Deanna smiled gratefully. She patted his arm lightly. "You'll see in the morning. I have to go back to everyone now." Deanna began to rise and Will caught her hand again. She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then moved slightly so her lips pressed just against the corner of his mouth. "I'll see you in the morning," she whispered before she smiled and turned and walked away.


	27. Home 27

Disclaimer- I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: So here is my usual - I'm sorry it took me so long- and on a brighter note, 28 is done and getting edited. I hope to have the whole thing done by the end of the month. I hope you enjoy where the story is taking us next. Let me know what you think, or if you are sick to death of this story :)

**Chapter 27**

"The first step is for her to convince Ambassador Greer," Admiral Daugherty explained as they sat around the table in the observation lounge.

The captain and his senior staff listened attentively as the admiral delivered his briefing. The group sat in their usual positions, or most of them, at least. The chair next to Commander Riker still sat empty, as it had for months now.

The admiral sat at the far end of the table, opposite the captain. To his left Deanna Troi sat quietly. She was not wearing a uniform as the rest of them were. Instead she wore a soft cream, sleeveless sweater and short black skirt. If she wanted to bring attention to the fact that she was not currently a crewmember, she had done a fine job.

"Forgive me, Admiral, but why is it that the Federation ambassador for a world is needing to be convinced to speak on its behalf?" the captain asked skeptically.

"In his words, he wants nothing to do with the 'damn rock'," the admiral explained. "However there is no one to replace him, no one that has anywhere near his understanding of the customs and cultures. And since, at the moment, we lack diplomatic relations, he has been able to keep his distance to this point."

"We're hoping that if he could see some hope in their future, it might make his job more…bearable." Deanna added. "The people of Galia Prime need his expertise on this."

Will Riker leaned forward against the table. He didn't want to say or do anything that might be discouraging, but it didn't make sense to him.

"I'm still not entirely sure I understand what 'this' is," he said reluctantly, shaking his head. "We convince the Galian ambassador to speak at a conference? What does it change? What is it you expect this conference to change?"

"We have a plan to provide aid to the Galian resistance," the ambassador told him. "All we need now is the support from the right people."

Now the captain began shaking his head. "Admiral, I have every desire to help the people of Galia Prime. However, I can not find a way in my mind where this does not fly in the face of the basic tenants of the Federation."

"This is a civil matter…" the admiral offered, to which the entire senior staff responded with nods. "Perhaps you would like to take this," the admiral said looking over to where Deanna sat pensively "I think you could explain it better than I could."

Deanna took a deep breath and leaned forward in her chair, in an effort to be closer to her colleagues. Her eyes searched the faces around her until she came to Will's searching gaze. "Will," she began hesitantly. "Do you remember in the caverns, after we had located the ambassador, there was a flash and a pop, and some sort of weapon's discharge. It brought half the cave down and knocked us both off our feet. Do you remember?"

Will nodded. He didn't want to tell her that the blast that ran through his mind far more was the one, moments later, when that same weapon had ripped her from the side of the cliff and plunged her into the darkness that she would not emerge from for months.

"You said you didn't know what it was. Did you ever get a good look at it?" she asked.

Will shook his head. "I was a little pre-occupied. I think it was held over the shoulder, but I can't be sure. More than that, no. Why?"

"I did get a look at it a few times over the next few days. The more I thought about it over the last few months, the more I realized _it_ was the key."

"The weapon?" Will asked puzzled.

"A few weeks ago I pulled every bit of information that Federation intelligence had on Galian weaponry. I couldn't find anything even remotely close to what we saw."

"That's when she contacted me at Star Fleet Command," the admiral took over. "We put her in touch with some of our weapons intelligence officers and after she described the blast from the weapon as well as the distinctive pop, we were able to identify it."

"When I saw it, I knew they were right," Deanna confirmed as the Admiral rose from his chair and activated a file on the computer screen behind him.

An image of the weapon filled the screen along with its specifications. The admiral turned back to the group. "They call it a gropla type plasma cannon."

Will Riker was leaning so far out of his seat he was almost standing. "Romulon," he muttered.

"Yes," the admiral confirmed.

"But if they had Romulon weapons in those caverns…they had them when the government fell. I mean, I knew they were smuggling weapons in now…"

"We had thought that the Romulon smuggling had begun in the last few months, but now, in light of this new information, we have gone back and reanalyzed the intelligence. We now have evidence that the smuggling began years ago."

"Why?" Geordi asked.

"The southern continent is ripe with urilium, enough to power hundreds of Romulan warbirds for hundreds of years."

"Are you saying that this entire conflict was generated by the Romulans?" the captain asked.

"If not generated, certainly urged along. They put powerful weapons in radical hands, and here is where it has led. All for mining rights to the planet's southern continent."

"If the Romulons have been involved since the beginning…" Will's mind was churning. "This never was a civil matter."

"And the Prime Directive's decree of non interference does not apply." A small smile appeared on the admiral's face as he spoke.

Will Riker looked to where Deanna sat in her chair.

He was stunned, but Deanna only smiled shyly as if hoping they would be pleased with what she had told them.

"So we give them the means to fight back; phasers, torpedo launchers…" Worf began whole-heartedly.

"No, Worf. No," Deanna protested shaking her head. She leaned over and put a gentle hand on the Kligon's arm. "This is not a war that will be won with weapons. They have ingrained these abusive behaviors into their culture as a means of control and suppression. This is a war of ideology as much as anything else."

"So how do we fight?" Worf asked completely confused.

"We don't," the admiral told him firmly. "The last thing we need is a drawn out battle with the Romulons."

"But we aid their fight?"

"In a way," Deanna told him. "This is a humanitarian mission. What these people need is humanitarian aid, not more weapons. There are plenty of them already."

"We can provide medical supplies," Beverly Crusher suggested. "Food replicators…"

"Yes!" Deanna cried, relieved that someone seemed to understand. "But more than that. We have half the planet who is not allowed to educate or be educated. They can't even leave their homes without a male escort controlling their every move. If they had a voice…this would all change and it wouldn't take more weapons."

Will nodded his understanding as he saw the picture of what Deanna had in mind. "We provide school supplies, communications systems, site to site transports…"

"Yes!" Deanna said again, excitedly.

"But none of it will work unless we can stem the tide of smuggled weapons," the captain cautioned.

The admiral sat taller in his chair. "The weapons are being smuggled in by Ferengi traders. They are also bringing the urilium out to the Romulons. They seem to be burning the candle at both ends here. If we could keep Ferengi traders away from the planet, set up some sort of check points…"

"Admiral," Data interjected. "In order to effectively blockade the planet from Ferengi traders, it would require the cooperation of four federation planets and six other planets currently classified as Federation protectorates. Receiving the cooperation of all of these worlds is…unlikely," he admitted.

"Not really. Not if the situation gains a high enough profile throughout the Federation," the admiral defended their plan. "Of those ten planets you mentioned, six were in attendance at the reception last night as were twenty three other worlds. And all ten will have delegates at the federation summit on Ura 5."

Deanna watched as her colleague's eyes opened with recognition. Will Riker leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face as he realized what she had been planning. It was her aid, her way. When their eyes met, he gave her a small nod of acknowledgement.

_Well done, Deanna. Well done, _he thought.

Deanna looked down at the table and smiled again, a blush rising in her cheeks.

"Well, I would love to watch this unfold, but I will have to settle for getting updates on the sidelines. I'll take my leave of you now. If you ask my opinion, Captain, I would leave the persuading of Ambassador Greer in the hands of these two," he motioned between Commander Riker and Deanna Troi. "They saved his life and gratitude and guilt can be powerful motivators. Besides…I've found she's abundantly persuasive. I assume…" the admiral glanced back and forth from the captain to Deanna, "that this change in roles for our counselor will not be a problem?"

The captain smiled graciously. "Of course not, Admiral. I am simply satisfied to have her aboard, no matter what the capacity."

"Excellent," the admiral said rising from his chair. "In that case, Captain," he turned and nodded to Deanna, "Emissary Troi…I wish you safe travels and good luck."

….

Once the ship was on its way to Starbase 115, and the basic mission plans were made, Commander Riker escorted Deanna Troi to her quarters. They walked arm in arm through the corridors of the ship talking of the mission, and of what she had accomplished in the last few weeks.

"I am really proud of you, Deanna," he told her as they neared her door. "I really am."

"Don't be," she told him. "All I have done so far is organize a dinner party."

There was an awkward pause as the sting of the words settled in. Will looked down, embarrassed by his comment the night before that had clearly made its way back to her.

"Now it's the hard part. I have to convince other people that it's a good idea, that it's worth the effort."

"You've convinced me," he told her.

Deanna's sense of dread was increasing with every step. She hoped that it didn't feel as if she was trying to drag him backwards, and in spite of her slowing step, before she knew it, Deanna found herself standing outside the door to her quarters. She looked from Will to the door and back again. The sudden emotions that were churning within her were not something she had anticipated. She stood against the wall, as far from the door as possible.

Will watched her for a moment before he spoke. "I could assign you guest quarters if you would prefer," he told her. He was a little puzzled. He always enjoyed coming home. On the other hand, he'd never fought the demons that she had.

Deanna sighed. "That seems a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

Will only shrugged his shoulders. "We could change your assigned quarter. You could move into one of the diplomatic-"

But Deanna stopped him. "Will, this is my home. It has been my home for eight years. I will not move because…I'm afraid," she admitted with another long sigh, as if admitting it took away part of the fear's power.

He wasn't going to rush her. He stood next to her, leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor staring at the doors across from them. "I'm right here, Dea. Whatever you need."

Deanna smiled slightly, before she closed her eyes. It would have been easier if it had been someone else, someone who would have said 'welcome home' given her a hug and been on their way. On the other hand, she had been thrilled to see the first officer of the flagship tripping over himself to make sure he could 'escort' her to her quarters, as if she couldn't find the way on her own. She knew that wasn't why. It was simply an excuse for a stolen moment alone in what was sure to be a very busy few weeks.

But here she stood, knowing what she needed to say and hoping it didn't hurt what fragile hope they had left. "Actually, Will…and I don't mean for this the way it will sound…"

"Just say it," he offered.

"I think I need to do this alone. I need to be able to face this alone." She watched as his face fell slightly. "I'm sorry," she added.

But Will shook his head. "I understand. It's okay," he told her, though she could see that he was a little hurt by the brush off. "Maybe I could meet you for dinner or something…later."

Deanna smiled. "I'd love that."

"Ten forward? Say, 19:00?"

Deanna nodded again gladly, before turning back to her door pensively.

"Okay," he said with a nod. "If you…" but he stopped himself. She knew if she needed him, she could always ask.

Deanna smiled and nodded again.

Without looking back, Will turned and walked away making his way back to the bridge, trying to be grateful for the time he got to spend with her, rather than upset that there were things she would not let him help her though.

Deanna waited until he was gone before she took two deep breaths, then a tentative step to her door, and then another. When the doors opened for her, she practically jumped back. This was her home, after all, even after all this time away.

She stepped into the dark room and looked around at her belongings. She was trying to fight off the memories of the last time she was there. She gathered up her courage and made her way to the replicator, opening the drawer that had held a Fala root for so long.

The candlesticks that her mother had given her years before rolled forward on the delicate linen napkins that went with them. There was nothing there, nothing that should not have been there anyway. _Will removed it_, she thought and sighed with relief. It was something she had been dreading.

She walked to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed lightly. She fought against the shadows of her memories, against the pain of wounds she had tried to heal. This was her home. This is where she belonged. And slowly she began to feel a sense of peace.

….

When Will Riker walked into Ten forward that evening, he found Deanna at a table, but not quite the way he had hoped. Geordi and Data both sat with her and they were chatting and laughing.

"Commander," Geordi and Data greeted in unison.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked with a conspicuous look at Deanna. She shrugged ever so slightly and gave him a hopeful sort of smile; to tell him this was not exactly what she intended either.

"Yeah, of course. We were just going to grab something and here she was, sitting all alone. We wouldn't want our diplomatic envoy to feel unwelcome," Geordi said with a smile.

Will shook his head and relented. "No, we wouldn't want that," he said sitting down with the three of them. He at least managed to sit next to her.

_Perhaps after a bit, they'll get the hint_, Will thought, and decided to just roll with it.

But before too long, Beverly Crusher came through the doors and started towards the bar until she saw her friends gathered at the table.

"Hey," she called as she approached. "No one told me we were having a welcome home party!"

"It was very impromptu," Geordi assured her.

"Very," Will muttered with another knowing glance in Deanna's direction. "Here," he said, rising from his seat at the fully occupied table for four. "Take my seat, I'll grab another."

Will reached for an empty table and swiped a chair, pulling it as close to Deanna's as he could before he sat back down.

"So we're all having dinner?" Beverly asked.

"I'm in," Geordi offered.

"Good, I'm starved." Beverly seemed relieved.

Deanna looked apologetically towards Will. He rolled his eyes slightly. He had given up.

"I'm up for dinner," Deanna finally concluded.

All eyes turned to Commander Riker. He looked around at his friends and back to Deanna. In spite of the fact that this wasn't what they had intended, she did seem to be happy. "As it turns out, my dinner plans just got canceled. Why not," he said with a shrug.

The five of them talked and laughed as they ate their meals, telling Deanna about the negotiations she had missed, odds and ends of ships business, caught her up on tid bits of gossip here and there. No one asked what she had been doing for the last three months, and she was relieved not to have to try to come up with an answer.

She was enjoying herself immensely, even though, as the hour grew later, she could feel herself becoming wearier. The last few days had had a grueling pace, and the relative calm of this evening was enough to almost let her drift off amongst the laughter of her friends.

Will tried to send a few signals throughout the night, ever hopeful that someone might pick up on the vibe that he had intended to spend the evening with Deanna alone. He put his arm around the back of her chair as they ordered, then after dinner moved it so it lay across her shoulders. He even let his fingers trace small patterns across her bare skin as they chatted after the meal, but it got no reaction from the others at the table. Deanna did give him a bit of a smile at one point, knowing exactly what he was trying to do, and noting how entirely unsuccessful he was being at it.

Finally several minutes later, Deanna decided to take matters into her own hands and tucked her body closer to his, so she leaned slightly into his shoulder.

The shift in her position immediately caught the attention of the doctor, who looked at Deanna intently before glancing at Will and then back to her friend. The women's eyes locked and Deanna gave her an insistent looking plea. Beverly's eyes opened wide with understanding for a moment before she spoke.

Beverly yawned a bit over dramatically. "I am exhausted," she announced. She looked hard at the chief engineer across the table from her. "Aren't you tired Geordi?"

Geordi glanced at her oddly. "No, not really…" He studied the sharp look in her eye and then she shot a glance in Deanna and Will's direction. Geordi looked over to where they sat, clearly together and realization hit him. He tried to not let the 'ohh' he was thinking in his head escape his mouth. "Actually, yeah, I'm pretty worn out. I think I better call it a night," he said rising from his seat. "Good night everybody."

"I think I'll join you," Beverly leaped up after him. The two stood there staring at Data, who remained in his seat, unphased by the exchange.

Will, Deanna, Geordi and Beverly all exchanged looks.

"Data," Geordi said. "Aren't you tired?" He emphasized each word and nodded his head meaningfully at the android.

Data looked back at his friend puzzled. "Geordi, you are aware that I do not require rest."

Will sighed heavily and dropped his head back in good-natured frustration.

"Are you sure, Data?" Beverly said insistently. "You look a little tired."

Data shifted his curious gaze to the doctor and then to himself and back to her. "Doctor, what is it about my appearance that would indicate fatigue?"

"Data!" Geordi and Beverly called together. Geordi looked intently at his friend and then gave that same knowing look over to the couple seated at the table.

Deanna had turned her head into Will's chest, blushing, and trying to stifle her laughter. Will's head was back, shaking slightly.

"Ah, my apologies. Good night Commander, Counselor," and Data rose from the table.

The four of them all began to laugh, but Data seemed confused as he began to walk away.

"Good night Data," Will called, feeling a little bad.

Geordi just chuckled and with a nod of farewell went after his friend. He was going to have to explain a few things about social signals again.

Beverly gave a small wave and a suggestive little raise of the eyebrow before heading off as well.

The two of them were finally alone and they laughed to themselves for a moment.

"Well, that wasn't quite what I had in mind when I asked you to meet me here," Will admitted.

"No, neither did I. But it was nice to see them." Deanna's eyes drifted to the doors of the bar where her friends had just left. "I missed them."

"And they missed you. We all missed you."

"Well, it's good to be home," she told him, taking a drink of the juice in front of her.

"Is it?" he asked a bit too sharply. Deanna set her cup back down and the two of them locked eyes. "This afternoon…in your quarters…?"

Deanna smiled at him reassuringly. "It's okay._ I'm_ okay."

"Everything like you left it?" he asked trying to seem more casual.

"For the most part," she told him, holding onto his gaze so he would catch her meaning, then she added, "Thank you for that."

Will knew by the look in her eye that she had gone looking for the Fala root and had found that it was gone. "That was Worf, actually," he admitted.

"Well, then I'll have to thank him later." Deanna leaned up to the table and rested her chin in her hands as she sighed.

"So how about some dessert?" Will suggested.

"That sounds lovely," she told him. She was beginning to feel more tired by the minute, but they were finally alone. She didn't want to give up this time with him.

Will stopped a server and asked for a piece of chocolate covered cheesecake. They chatted a bit more while they waited, but Will could see, Deanna was exhausted. Her blinks were becoming longer and longer as if she might drift to sleep, sitting at the table with him.

"Deanna," he finally interrupted her meandering story. "Go home. Go to bed. You're exhausted."

"No," Deanna tried to reassure him, sitting up taller, trying to open her eyes wide. "No, I'm fine. I have so much I want to talk to you about."

"Me too, but I'd prefer to do it when you are awake enough to remember the conversation the next morning."

"It's not even that late," she told him.

Will just shook his head. "I don't think your body knows that yet. Come on," he gave a tug on her arm, to get her to stand. "Home. Bed. You and I have a very important mission in the morning and I will not have our diplomatic envoy be anything less than her best because I kept her up the night before eating cheesecake. Come on," he tried again.

This time he was successful. They stood close together at the edge of the table.

"I don't know why I'm suddenly so tired."

"Well, doing an end run around the Prime Directive can really wear someone out," he teased.

"I'm sorry about tonight," she told him.

Will only smiled. "Why? I had a great time."

Deanna was relieved that he didn't seem angry.

"Come on, I'll walk you home." Will led her out of the busy lounge and through the corridors of the ship.

They walked mostly in silence, Deanna's head resting on his shoulder as they strolled. They weren't in a hurry to part company. They even seemed content to enjoy the silence.

But the closer they got to Deanna's quarters, the more the need to say what was on her mind sprang up between them.

"Will," she said pulling away to look at him, "about earlier today…"

Will waved it off. "It's okay, really. I know you need to deal with some of this alone still. Just know that I'm here, when you need me…when you're ready."

Deanna sighed and looked down, utterly torn. There was nothing she could have wanted more than to spend the night wrapped in his arms, talking about them…saying all the things that needed to be said, closing that chapter of her life and moving on, hopefully with him by her side. But there was another part, which wanted healing just as much, but in a different way. And that part was smart enough to realize she couldn't have both kinds of healing, at least not at the same time.

"It's not just that," she told him softly. Will looked back at her with question in his eyes, but she could sense his defenses go up. "Please don't hate me," she offered.

Will continued to watch her, but his body language had changed. He had had it happen too many times before. He was getting ready for her to push him away.

And he wasn't entirely wrong. Deanna hated herself for what she was about to do. "I can't do this, not right now. Not tonight," she said gesturing between them. She watched his face grow more sullen. "Will, it's not you. It's this mission. I've never done something like this before."

"Sure you have," he corrected her. "Corvola 3, Bajor…"

Deanna looked back at him, too exhausted to fight. "Not like this. Not all by myself. Not being the …" she didn't have the right word.

"Puppet master?" Will offered with a grin. He hated what she was saying, but it didn't change the little sense of pride he had about what she was trying to accomplish.

Deanna let out a small chuckle as well, before her face fell. "I'm being serious Will. What if I forget something? What if I miss something? Or don't think of something?"

Deanna seemed to be growing more nervous with every word.

Will tried to calm her. "Hey, hey." He said reassuringly, taking her by the hand. "You're not all alone. We're all here to help you. If you miss something…that's what we're here for. We're a team and _we_ have, in fact, done this before."

Deanna sighed. "But I've never been in charge."

Will smiled at her. Something about her insecurity was endearing to him. He tucked some hair back behind her ear and watched as she closed her eyes enjoying his touch. But it was only a moment, before she pulled his hand away, holding it tightly.

"I have to help these people, Will. I just have to."

"I know you do. And I'm right behind you."

But Deanna continued as if he hadn't spoken. "I can't afford to be distracted. And as much as I hate to admit it, because I'm sure you will find a way to use this against me at some point in the future… you have an amazing ability… to distract me," she said, dropping his hand to his side. "I can't do this right now, Will. It's not that I don't want to. I just can't afford…"

Will was looking at her with those puppy dog eyes, like he might be able to convince her otherwise, but she shook her head.

"The conference is in two weeks. If I can just make it through the conference…After that, I'll be back to work. I know it's two weeks and I know that the whole come here, go away thing I've been putting you through…"

But before she could say another word, he silenced her with a gentle kiss. Her lips were soft and tender against his and he let them linger like that for a long moment. Then slowly, he pulled away and pressed his lips to her ear.

"It'll keep," he told her.

Deanna looked back at him with disbelief. "Really?"

Will started to chuckle as he stepped away from her. "It's waited a long time, Deanna. I think it can wait another couple of weeks." He leaned in and kissed her head. "Good night Imzadi," he told her.

"Good night Will," she echoed before she stepped towards her door.

Will took a few steps before turning back to her. "I distract you, huh?"

Deanna only shook her head as she stepped into her quarters. She knew she was going to regret that.

Will walked away down the corridor. It wasn't the night he had intended, but it was good enough. There was no rush. The rest would wait.

….

Commander Riker and Deanna Troi stepped into the ambassador's quarters on the starbase late in the morning.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" he asked as they sat on the couch that he had indicated when he had opened the door.

"No, thank you," Will responded.

Deanna noticed the way he kept his eyes near her, but not on her as he waited for her answer.

"Anything?" he asked again. "Coffee…tea?"

"Some tea would be lovely, thank you," she responded and he stepped away to fetch the drink she requested.

Will looked back to Deanna. He didn't have to be an empath to pick up on the man's nervousness. He was uncomfortable. It was clear; from the moment Will had introduced him to Deanna Troi at the door.

"We have met once before, Ambassador," she had told him. "Though I doubt you remember."

His eyes had shifted to the floor as he had shaken her hand.

Will hoped that Admiral Daugherty had been right about the motivating factors of gratitude and guilt.

Ambassador Greer approached and handed Deanna a cup of tea before sinking into a chair across from the two of them. "I must tell you, I know why you're here, and I regret that I cannot help you."

"Cannot or will not?" Commander Riker asked, his voice low and even.

"I have nothing to offer you," the ambassador added. He seemed completely defeated.

Will opened his mouth to speak, but Deanna's gentle hand on his arm made him stop.

"Ambassador," Deanna began, but he shook his head in response.

"Please, Counselor. Forgive me. I know what you went through to rescue me. Please don't think me ungrateful. I simply cannot bear the tragedy…"

Deanna reached out and placed her hand on the ambassador's knee. Her voice was calm, soothing even, as if she were speaking to a child. "Ambassador, you are not responsible for what happened to me."

The ambassador's face crumbled. His eyes pinched to try to hold in the tears. "If I could go back and change it, I would. I would have told the Federation counsel to make a decree to keep all female personnel off the planet. I should have…"

Deanna did not waver. "Ambassador," she told him again. "You are not responsible for what happened to me. I understood the risks. I made my own choices. I _chose_ to beam down to Galia Prime. It wasn't your fault, or Captain Picard's or Commander Riker's. It was _my_ _choice_."

The Ambassador made little effort to compose himself. "There was so much tragedy, so much grief."

"I know," Deanna softly soothed.

"Members of my staff died."

"I know."

"And for what?" The ambassador's tone changed to anger. "And now, Admiral Daugherty sends me this intelligence briefing saying that these Romulon weapons were being smuggled in for years? Right under my nose? And I did nothing! Nothing to help these people! What can I possibly offer them now?"

Will shook his head slightly at the man across from him. "Ambassador, it is not you job, nor was it even your right to be searching for smuggled weapons. That lay completely out of your jurisdiction."

"Someone should have been," he said bitterly.

"Yes, but that someone was not you," Will answered.

Ambassador Greer shook his head. "You don't understand what's happened to these people. You can't understand what their lives have become. It's all such a tragedy."

Deanna moved closer to him as she spoke. "Yes, it is. The things that are happening on Galia Prime are a tragedy. What happened to your staff and to you was a tragedy. What happened to me…But Ambassador, out of tragedy, we can make something better. We can triumph. If not, all the suffering was in vain. Don't make what I went through a waste, Sir. Don't make the deaths and suffering of your staff be for nothing. The people of this planet, they mean something to you. I can sense that they do. Don't let them down now Ambassador, not when we are so close to helping them."

Ambassador Greer stood and began pacing the room, deep in thought.

"We have a plan to help them," Deanna offered.

The ambassador nodded and continued his pacing.

"But we need wide based Federation support. Help me get it."

The ambassador shook his head. "What if I did? What if I joined you on Ura 5 and it wasn't enough? Who are _we _to ask for something on behalf of this people?"

"You are their ambassador," Will said frustrated. "If you will not speak on their behalf in the Federation, who will?"

"I am a man exiled from their planet. And as persuasive and talented as I believe you are, Counselor, even with all you have been through…you are one woman who had a horrible thing happen to you. That one circumstance hardly shows that they are a planet is crisis."

Will finally stood to join him. "Ambassador, what is it you have in mind?"

Ambassador Greer shook his head. "It is impossible."

Commander Riker looked back at Deanna and they shared a quick grin before he turned back to the ambassador. "Sir, we have learned in our time on the Enterprise that often those things deemed to be impossible are simply the things that have not been tried hard enough." Will took one step towards him. "What is it that you think would be 'enough'?"

"A woman. A Galian woman, to speak on her planet's behalf. Not someone who was held against her will for a week, but a woman who has lived the last few years…watched her way of life fade away into slavery and servitude. A woman who can speak for all the others, for everything she has seen, for everything she has lost."

The room fell suddenly silent. Deanna could feel something churning inside Will's mind, but she couldn't place it. It was almost as if he was sizing up his opponent in a game of poker.

"I think we can manage that," Will finally said and Deanna turned to him, shocked.

The ambassador let out a cruel laugh. "Commander, even if you could somehow get thought the planets shielding, which you can't, you couldn't simply grab the first female you see and drag her away to be an ambassador for her people. These women have no education, no training."

"I have beamed through the planetary shielding twice before, and I have no intention of kidnapping anyone."

The ambassador continued as if Will hadn't spoken. "What we would need is someone educated, well versed in the politics of what is going on around her. Someone articulate…"

"I agree. And I have someone in mind."

"That's ridiculous."

"I was actually thinking it was more fortuitous."

Deanna watched the two of them, stunned by Will's sudden casual demeanor.

"It's impossible is what it is."

"Not if we try hard enough," Will said with a shrug. "So, what do you say, Ambassador? If we bring a Galian woman ready to speak on behalf of her people to the summit on Ura 5 in two weeks, can we count on you joining us, and giving the proposal your full support?"

"It would be ridiculous to even attempt…"

Will put out his hand. "Your word, that if we bring a fully prepared, well spoken Galian victim of this war, to join you and Counselor Troi, that you will do everything in your power to help the people of this planet whom you have sworn to represent to the Federation."

The ambassador looked shocked into the face of the determined commander for a long moment. "In two weeks?' he asked.

Will gave a sharp nod.

Finally Ambassador Greer reached out and shook Will's hand. "You have my word, Commander," he told him solemnly.

Will smiled kindly at him. "In that case, if you'll excuse us, we have work to do." He reached back and offered Deanna his hand as he began to escort her towards the door. "We'll see you in two weeks, Ambassador."

The ambassador only nodded. Then just as they reached the door, he called out. "Counselor-"

The two of them turned to face him.

"It was my honor to meet you. I see now why your friends were so crushed…and so adamantly determined to bring you home."

Deanna smiled kindly. "Thank you Ambassador," she said before she turned and walked out the door.

Will Riker and Deanna Troi strode quickly through the corridors of the starbase towards the transporter room.

"Will," Deanna began, having to almost run to keep his pace. "How much of that back there was a bluff?" she asked.

Will gave a shrug. "I think we're about to find out," he told her.

"He's right, Will. You can't exactly go around interviewing women. What would make you think that you could find…"

Will stopped walking and turned to face her. "Do you remember, I told you I met a family when I came down to find you?"

Deanna thought for a moment. "He apologized for what happened to me."

"Yes."

Deanna's eyebrows rose with understanding. "His wife?"

"She was a surgeon, forced to give up medicine. She was strong and articulate…"

"But, Will, you would be asking her husband to turn her over to a virtual stranger. How could you expect…"

"He trusted me, Deanna. And I trusted him. He helped me find you."

….

"Commander," the captain began a few hours later as the senior staff gathered for a mission briefing. "Even if it were still possible to beam down through the planetary shielding… it has been six months, Will. They could have moved…been forcefully relocated…they could have been killed. We have no idea even where to begin to look."

"Captain, we have to at least give it a try. Any of those things might be true, but maybe I can find them. Isn't it worth the chance? And it's not just about getting the ambassador's support…it's because he's right. They need this. I've been there. I've looked in her eyes. It's going to be painfully difficult to say no to her face."

"The fighting has been intense for the last several months. You said yourself that this man, Gault, was a member of the resistance."

"The fighting is getting worse. All the more reason for me to go. And the risk is minimal."

The captain turned to his first officer in shock. "It's a war zone!"

"Not entirely different from other war zones I have been to over the years. I know how to duck and cover," he reminded him.

The captain turned to the others in the room, studying their faces one by one as he thought, until he came to the end of the table where Deanna Troi sat, still slightly apart from the rest.

There was such pleading in her dark eyes. He shook his head and looked away. "The summit is in two weeks. That is barely enough time…"

"Give me one day," his first officer urged.

He weighed the pros and cons in his head, careful to avoid looking at Deanna again. He didn't want guilt making his decisions for him.

Slowly he began to nod. "If we are going to do this, we need to get moving. Number One, set course for Galia Prime, warp 6. Data, Worf- we will need every bit of intelligence that we have on what has been going on on the planet's surface since we were last here. If any of it would give us a more educated guess where to find these people, we need to know it. I want to know where any Ferengi ships are in proximity to the planet. If there have been any known changes to the planetary shield grid…I want to know it all, and I want to know it quickly. Doctor, as soon as we are in orbit, you will need to alter Commander Riker to pass for a Galian." He turned back to Commander Riker. "You will have 24 hours, no more. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, Sir"

The captain gave a nod. "Any questions?"

"I'll be going with him."

The entire group turned towards the quiet voice that had spoken from the other end of the table.

Deanna looked almost as shocked by her own words as the rest of them.

"Pardon me?" the captain asked.

"I'm going with him," Deanna said, gaining confidence as she spoke.

Will Riker was shaking his head. "I don't think so," he said sarcastically.

"Agreed. Absolutely not," the captain answered.

"Captain, what Commander Riker is suggesting is beaming down, and asking a man to hand over his wife. I don't care how much he thought he trusted him, that's asking a lot. Besides, if I am asking this woman to be a spokesperson for her people, should I not have the fortitude to do it myself? As long as Commander Riker and I are together, the risks remain minimal."

The captain was still shaking his head.

"Captain, if I may," Data spoke. "From everything I have read about Galian culture, I'm afraid I must agree with Counselor Troi. The mission has a far higher probability of success if she were to accompany Commander Riker."

The room was again silent while the captain weighed the arguments. Then he shook his head. "No. The risk is too great." He stood from his seat. "If there's nothing else…"

"Captain," Deanna began to protest.

"I have made my decision, Counselor." The captain took a step towards the bridge.

"I wasn't asking your permission." Deanna's voice faltered only slightly as she defied her mentor's authority.

The room had begun to move, but when she spoke, all movement ceased. Everyone froze as eyes darted from the captain at one end of the room to Deanna at the other, standing at the end of the table, trying to look more confident than she felt.

"Counselor?" the captain questioned as if she had lost her mind.

And maybe she had, she thought watching all of them. "Captain, I understand what I am doing. I assure you, I understand it better than any of you. I've been thinking of nothing else for the last several hours…"

"Deanna," Will broke in. "You can't be serious."

"I am serious, Will. I'm very serious."

"I have made my decision," the captain told her again, emphasizing every word.

"And as your ships counselor, I would obey your orders, without question," Deanna answered. "But I am not your ship's counselor at the moment, Captain."

The captain's jaw actually dropped slightly the more she spoke.

"I am a Federation Emissary and I have my own mission to perform. This is not your decision. It is mine, and I have made it."

"Deanna," the captain's voice was no more than a whisper.

"And if I were anyone else, you wouldn't argue with me. You would simply make the arrangements for me to do what was necessary."

"If it did not endanger _my_ ship or_ my_ crew," the captain answered firmly.

"How am I endangering this ship or her crew, Captain?" Deanna begged. "How is the crew in any less danger from Commander Riker going alone, than from me going with him?"

Captain Picard stared across the room at her for a moment, before answering. "_You_ will be in danger," he said quietly.

"I am not currently a member of your crew," she answered, her voice almost tender. "I have to do this Captain." She looked around the room at the stunned faces of her friends, staring intently at her. Suddenly, she was growing uncomfortable under their scrutiny. "I hope you understand. Excuse me," she told them and she kept a purposeful, steady stride as she walked out the doors of the observation lounge, leaving the rest of the senior staff staring in silence.


	28. Home 28

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters

A/N: So I must explain my long absence. I had written this chapter and then accidentally deleted it. I was crushed. I couldn't get motivation to write it again, and then life ran away with all my time. Finally things calmed down and I had time to write, but I made a decision that I would finish writing it all before I posted it. So here is the good news. The story is complete. (It is saved in like 3 or 4 places on my computer, lest I do something stupid again.) I could post it all right now, but I'm not going to. As I struggled to get back in the groove of writing, I asked myself what was bugging me. Was it just that I have been working on this story for 10 months? Was I just sick of it? Honestly, yeah, a little. But something else that bugged me was that some of the chapters I liked the most have gotten the fewest reviews. So here's the deal. When you read this... review and tell me what you think of the story. When I have 10 people's opinions, I will post the next one. Then when 10 people give me their opinion on that one I will post the last chapter. Deal? Good. It's up to you now. I've done my part. Cheers! And thanks for sticking with me through all these chapters and twists and turns. It has been fun to write and l love hearing what you think of it.

M

**Chapter 28:**

Deanna paced back and forth across the transporter room, the bag she was to carry on the mission long ago discarded on the transporter pad. She knew that the captain and first officer were watching her pensively as she paced, as if they expected her to burst into tears or go running from the room at any moment.

And it wasn't that the thought hadn't occurred to her. Perhaps she was just too proud, but she knew if she showed weakness right at this moment, the captain could step in and call off the whole thing, and she wouldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let the mission or the welfare of these people be jeopardized because she was afraid.

But she _was_ afraid, so afraid that it was making it hard to breath. The fear had been mounting all day, though it was still very early in the morning, but she and Will Riker had already been up for hours.

The day had started in Sickbay with Dr. Crusher surgically implanting ridges along the back of each of their hands and injecting artificial pigments into their exposed skin that would temporarily give them the more olive complexions of the galian people that neither of them naturally possessed.

She had tried to stop herself, but already Will had caught her rubbing at the ridge in her skin, as if to rid herself of it. She could barely stand to see it. The sight made her skin crawl.

As the doctor finished her work, Geordi Laforge came in carrying woven bags for each of them to carry with them. He went over each bags contents, including a small med kit, food and water rations and an emergency transport beacon identical to the one that Commander Riker had carried with him the last time he had beamed down to this planet.

Geordi attached communicators to the belt buckle for Commander Riker's pants and hid it in a seam of Deanna's dress. He also gave the commander the only weapon they would carry, a knife that would hang from his belt.

The only thing left was the shroud Deanna would need to cover herself with. It was the thing she dreaded the most, so she had saved it for last. But when she had asked the computer to replicate a Galian woman's shroud, what appeared in front of her was a piece of shimmering fabric, more like a scarf than the shrouds that covered the women she had seen. This was from a different time in the planet's history, a time where women were still members of the society and dressed in colorful clothing.

She tried to give the computer a better idea of what she was looking for, but it still wasn't right. She held the cloth in her hand in desperation. "Will, this won't do."

Will stepped up to the replicator, entering more specific instructions. "Here," he said as he looked at the computer terminal with frustration. "Try that." He had entered the specifications to the best of his recollection, but to be truthful, he had tried his best to forget what it looked like, or what he had seen those months ago.

The replicator activated again and a black garment lay in front of them. Will reached for it and held it up. No, it wasn't right either, though neither of them could quite say why.

"What do we do?" Deanna asked him quietly. The planetary shield grid would rotate soon and they needed to be ready to beam down as soon as it did. Timing would be critical to this mission.

Will just stared at the garment again in deep concentration.

"What's going on?" Beverly asked approaching where the two of them stood by the replicator in an empty sickbay room.

"The shroud is wrong," Will told her. "The computer didn't have one on file and we've tried altering it, but…something's off."

"What's off?" Beverly asked, taking a closer look at the fabric.

Deanna shrugged her shoulder. "I can't quite say. Maybe the stitching is too uniform, or it looks too new. I don't know. It just isn't what I saw on the planet."

"That was months ago," Beverly reminded them both.

"I know what they looked like," Deanna said soberly. "This isn't right."

"Okay, so I'll go alone," Will began.

"NO!" Deanna snapped back. Her emotions were almost overwhelming her. She closed her eyes, as if she could hide away from them and shook her head. "I have to do this Will," she whispered to him. "Please help me. Please."

Beverly watched her friend's quiet desperation for a moment before she took action. "I know how to get you what you need," she told them. "Go on, finish with the mission prep. I'll bring it to you as soon as I can."

Deanna looked back at Beverly, surprised by her words. But Beverly offered a reassuring nod to her and another at Commander Riker and turned and was gone.

The two of them had gone over the mission protocols with the captain and Data had informed them again of the planetary shield's rotating shield harmonics. The shield was set to rotate every twenty-two minutes, on a pattern. The shield would rotate and leave a gap in roughly the same area that Commander Riker had transported to six months before. They would have twenty-two minutes to beam down to the planet. Once they were there, they would have ten hours to reach the village, find Gault and his family, and convince them to return with them. Figuring on at least an hour's hike back to the transport coordinates, which would give them time to reach the coordinate before the shield gap rotated back over that area, twelve to fourteen hours later.

Deanna continued to pace in the transporter room, as she glanced over to see Will leaning on the transporter control console. She could feel how closely he was studying her and she made an effort to slow her breathing that seemed to be ever increasing in labor with every passing minute. The captain stood by his first officer's side, his arms folded across his chest, observing. They were expecting to hear from Data at any moment, and though it had been more than an hour since they had left Sickbay, there had been no word from Dr. Crusher, and Deanna still had no shroud to hide her identity while she was on the planet's surface. The tension in the room was building by the moment as Deanna fought the urge to wipe at the ridge along the back of her hand.

The silence in the room was broken as the doors slid open and Data and Beverly entered together. Beverly held a wad of black fabric in her arms.

"Captain, the shield modulation has occurred. There are exactly seventeen minutes eight seconds left in this transport window," Data said simply.

The captain thanked Data as Beverly pulled Deanna aside. "Here," she said thrusting the fabric towards her. "I'm sorry. It took me forever to find. It was in an evidence locker and we needed to preserve all the evidence before we could clean it." Beverly spoke in a rush, as if she had yet to slow down from the flurry of activity that she had been a part of before her arrival.

Deanna only stared at the fabric in front of her, as she suddenly realized that this garment Beverly was offering her was not something _like_ what Deanna had seen on the planet. It _was _what she had seen and worn all those months ago on the planet. Deanna's eyes grew wide at the sudden tangible reminder of the torture that she had endured. It was as if everything else in the room faded away and all that existed was her and the offending garment. Deanna felt the cold shock of adrenalin in her bloodstream and on instinct reached out and pushed the fabric away from her.

Beverly could see Deanna's panicked response and took a step away, withdrawing the fabric with her. She hadn't meant for her to react like that.

Will watched her for a moment more, as she fought to keep control, before he took a step towards her.

The moment seemed to drag Deanna out of her nightmare and she looked around at the concerned faces around her.

"Deanna," Will said softly.

Deanna took one calming breath. "I'm okay," she told them.

"You know," the captain spoke for the first time in a long while. "No one will think any less of you if you change your mind, Counselor."

Deanna's eyes filled with fierce determination as she looked back at her captain. "I haven't changed my mind," she said firmly, and before she could hesitate she reached out and took the fabric from Beverly's hand and in one motion swung it over her head.

The room fell absolutely dark as the fabric covered her and for a moment the fear was so intense, Deanna was sure that the fabric falling around her would suffocate her. She almost tore it from her, but she dug deep into herself and thought of those people who were left behind, the people she could help, of how they were more alike than different, and by the time the dark folds of fabric settled around her, she had found her footing again.

She quickly adjusted the shroud until the opening fell over her eyes and she tied it with the loose strand of fabric around her head, as she had seen others do.

Will could no longer see how hard she was breathing, but he didn't miss the tremble in her hand as it emerged momentarily from the fabric.

"Counselor?" the captain asked.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Other than it being a little stuffy and not being able to see very well…"

The shroud did significantly limit her peripheral vision, enough that Wills appearance at her side made her jump. He reached out to steady her, slipping her woven bag onto her shoulder.

Deanna turned and he helped her onto the transporter pad.

"Are you sure?" he asked her quietly as they stood apart from the others.

Deanna's dark eyes stared back at him, from where she stood, hidden in cloth, but she nodded firmly. "I'm ready," she answered loud enough for the rest to hear. Will gave her a slight nod, then leaned to her as if her were adjusting her bag, but he really just wanted to be near enough to her to speak alone.

"In case I forget to tell you later…" he said quietly, his mouth against her ear. "I am really proud of you." He kissed her lightly over her ear, which, like the rest of her, was covered with black fabric. Then he stepped to her side. He gave a nod to the captain.

"We'll see you in a few hours," Captain Picard said encouragingly. He glanced to Data who stood at the transporter controls. "Energize."

Deanna felt, more than saw, the room begin to fill with light, as if it would fade away in front of her. Again that surge of panic shot through her. But as quick as it came, it was gone as she felt Will's hand close around her own. Even with the fabric between them, she could feel his warmth and concern and it washed over her as the transporter room of the Enterprise disappeared from view.

The first thing Deanna felt was the Galian sun beating down on her from above, the heat being soaked up by the black fabric like a sponge. She looked around to see Will squinting against the bright light and then around at their surroundings. There were rolling hills, mostly dry, rocky terrain, with small shrubs scattered about.

"There's the road," Will said, pointing off in the distance at what appeared to be no more than a dirt path through the brush. "The village's about an hour from here if we can keep a good pace. Come on," he said motioning for her to follow. "We need to get out of here. Just in case they detected something with the transporter beam, I don't want to be here when the cavalry rides in. " He gave her a slight tug on the arm as they set off towards the road that Will had indicated.

They walked in silence for a while, Will a few steps ahead of Deanna, as they kept an eye out for any movement around them, but it was slow going.

Every few steps Deanna would trip over a stump or rock, or the shroud would become tangled in a shrub that they passed. It was proving impossible to keep the pace Will felt was necessary, and with every stumble, Deanna swore under her breath. By the time they reached the road, sweat was streaming down the back of her neck, her clothes sticking to her skin. The only relief that the shroud offered was from the dust that seemed to float in the air around them. She was hoping the road would give her a clear way to move faster and make up some time, but it proved to be wrong. Half buried stones protruded everywhere and with each blind step that she took, she slowed them down more.

"This is ridiculous!" Deanna finally cried as she tripped again. She looked all around them as best she could, but after almost forty-five minutes, there was still no one in sight. She took the front of the shroud and lifted it over her head like a veil and let it fall twice as thick down her back, freeing her face and feet.

"What are you doing?" Will asked.

Deanna looked over at him, exhausted. "It's impossible, Will. We'll never make it. If we see or hear anything, I'll pull it back over. But we don't have time for this," she said gesturing to the trail that she had stumbled over.

Will looked at her crossly for a moment, but finally conceded. They needed to move faster.

Once the shroud was lifted, it was as if Deanna had suddenly reappeared. The two of them filled the time with idle chatter, something, and anything to talk about as long as it didn't concern this planet. Deanna told him how her mother had refurnished much of the mansion on Betazed. Will told her stories of people they had encountered during the trade negotiations, whatever to keep them occupied and on a good pace.

Finally, Will came to a stop and turned back to her. "The check point for the village is right around this bend," he told her.

Deanna nodded and pulled the shroud back down around her.

Will's main thoughts were focused on one thing. They must stick together. He would not leave her here again. "Stay close to me," he told her. "Don't speak."

Deanna reached out and touched him arm. "Will, I know what to do," she told him, hoping her voice portrayed calm, rather than the fluttering of nerves she was suddenly feeling, knowing that in a few moments, she would be face to face with Galian militants.

With a small nod, Will turned back to the path in front of them and set off again, slowing his pace to allow Deanna to keep up as she tried to keep an even step over the terrain.

Deanna braced herself for the military presence she was sure to see as they rounded the bend, but they both came to an abrupt stop when they could see the village.

What had once been a militia checkpoint lay in tatters, abandoned. There was no social atmosphere around it, in fact there was nothing around it, no one in sight, and as they looked on into the village, the buildings bore the scars of battle. Some were no more than rubble in the streets. Others were boarded up, but there was no sign of life anywhere in sight.

Deanna could sense Will's uncertainty, as he stood frozen in the road. "What happened here?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," Will said sadly. "Come on," he finally decided to proceed and motioned with his head for her to follow him, as one hand settled around the knife that hung from his belt.

They passed what remained of the checkpoint and entered the village. Finally Will saw some animals in the pen outside the home that had been Gault's and his families. The house looked deserted, but the animals were there, though fewer in number, they were groomed and appeared well fed. Someone was taking care of them and somewhere inside him, Will felt a glimmer of hope.

"Is that it?" Deanna asked, motioning her head under the shroud to indicate the house carved into the hillside that was the center of Will's attention.

He gave her a small nod.

"There are people here," she told him, glancing around them. "I just can't tell where." She knew it was her own fear impeding her telepathic efforts, but she couldn't seem to fight it off.

The idea of people watching them, unseen, from the surrounding buildings was unsettling to Will as he kept a defensive eye on the area around them. "Any impressions?"

"Frightened," Deanna answered. "Hoping to hide and avoid conflict I think."

"Does that mean that trouble is nearby?" Will asked.

"It looks as if trouble has already been here," she responded, glancing around at what she could see of the village, or what remained of it.

Will pulled her hastily towards him and quickly made his way up to the door of the home, keeping Deanna as close as possible. He knocked firmly on the door, but there was no answer, not a sound.

Will looked back to Deanna's wide dark eyes, shrouded in the black that surrounded them. There was a question in his eyes.

"Someone is here," she told him, fairly sure of herself.

Will knocked again. After a moment, they could here the shuffle of feet inside the home, hurried quiet words and then slowly, the bar on the door was raised and the door came open, just a crack.

The young man who appeared just inside stood rigid. But Deanna felt Will relax slightly at her side. "Torvan?" Will asked. "I am Trav of Kamreen. I came here several months ago. Your father helped me to find a friend. Do you remember me?" Will asked determinedly.

The young man's stare never wavered, and before Will could react the door in front of him slammed shut and the bar behind it dropped, locking it securely.

Whatever comfort seeing Gault's son had brought disappeared with the boy's reaction. What else was behind that door and where was Gault?

He leaned forward to knock again, but Deanna reached out to stop him. "He's frightened. He's been through a lot in his life." She glanced back at the door. "Just give him a minute to decide what to do."

Will glanced around at the village behind them. There was still no sign of life, but he couldn't' shake the feeling that they were being watched. "We may not have a minute," he cautioned her.

The sounds of feet inside quieted both of them. There were more hushed words and then the door suddenly swung open and an arm reached out and began to pull Will inside. He had no choice but to release his firm hold on the knife at his belt and reach out for Deanna's arm, just in time to drag her inside with him, before the door was slammed shut and locked securely behind them.

For a moment the room was nothing but a blur of activity as both Will and Deanna struggled to get their bearings in the dim light, but after a moment Will found himself, standing in front of Deanna, as if blocking her from some unknown enemy, facing a tall woman with long black hair, her two children standing firmly at her side. It was Batra who had dragged him into her home, and now she stood before him, looking frightened and confused.

"Batra?" Will began. She had made no effort to shroud herself or hide her face. Surely she knew who he was.

"Commander Riker," she answered as if it had been only a few days since the last time he had stood in this room. "What are you doing here? You should not have come back."

"Batra, I'm sorry if I have done anything to jeopardize your safety or the safety of your children. But this is very important."

But Batra had stopped looking at him. Her eyes were glued to the shrouded woman who stood just behind him.

Will followed Batra's gaze and he turned to look at Deanna, like the rest of the room. He gave her a small nod, letting her know that she was safe and gratefully, with one motion, Deanna pulled the shroud from her and let it billow to the floor at her feet.

The room remained frozen, except for a small gasp that left Batra's mouth and echoed in the silence.

Her daughter, who stood beside her, eyes were wide as she studied the stranger.

Deanna stepped forward to the middle of the room, between Will and the Galian family.

"My name is Deanna Troi," she began and offered Batra her hand.

"It's you," Batra answered in an emotional whisper. "He came to save you."

Deana looked back to Will, slightly puzzled. But before he could respond, Batra had crossed the room to Deanna and crushed her in a fierce hug. "You are alive!" she cried softly.

"Yes," Deanna replied, still a bit puzzled though she returned the woman's embrace, feeling an instant connection that she could not explain.

"I was told that they poisoned you. I didn't know if your doctors would be able to reverse the damage," Batra told her pulling away slightly and smiling at her kindly. In a moment, something flashed in Batra's eyes and her smile faded. "You did leave the planet, yes? We heard that you had disappeared. Please tell me that you have not been running for all this time."

"No, we made it back to our ship the day after I was here last," Will told her.

"How?" Batra asked.

"We had a transport beacon to break through the planetary shield."

Batra turned back to Deanna. "I'm so sorry. We tried to help you, but…"

Deanna felt Batra jump as a strong fist pounded three times on the door behind them.

Will's hand went immediately for his knife. The family reacted on cue, and silently.

Batra's daughter huddled near the door to the hall, Batra between her and the door and Torvan stepped to the door. Except this time the hushed whispering came from outside, rushed words that neither Deanna nor Will understood.

Though the family seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief. Batra pushed past her son and whispered back in that same hushed tone. The answer was short and Batra sighed and flung the door open. A large broad shouldered man barreled into the room, slamming the door behind him and locking it securely before turning to face his wife. "They saw strangers wandering into the village. We must secure the home. Bring the animals inside. Shaule, go below into the caverns…"

"Gault," his wife tried to interrupt him, as he stood turned away from their two guests.

"There isn't time. They must be here already!"

"Gault," Batra said again, reaching out a reassuring hand to her husband. "It's alright," she assured him.

She looked to Deanna, and Gault followed her gaze. "Who are you?" he asked her. "Why are you in my home?"

Deanna found herself face to face with her first Galian man, and though she could sense that he was not a violent man, he was intimidating. "My name is Deanna Troi," she began tentatively. "I have come to speak with you about how we can help."

"We?" Gault asked skeptically.

"Yes," Will Riker stepped forward into the dimly lit room from the shadow that had surrounded him. "We. Hello Gault."

Gault's eyes widened as he looked between the two of them in surprise. "Commander Riker," he said cautiously.

With one look back at Deanna, he seemed to know who she was, just as Batra had. His facial expression softened. He looked sad, even ashamed. "You should not have come back here, my dear," he told her tenderly.

"I had to. I need your help."

Gault let out a long sigh, and shook his head. "I can do nothing for you," he told her, then shifted his gaze to Will. "You should not have let her…"

"She didn't give me much choice," Will told him. "And I wouldn't be too sure about not being able to help."

"The resistance took back these areas of hills a month ago. It is a constant fight to hold them. We have had to isolate ourselves. I know little of what is happening in other areas. Even within the resistance, there are spies everywhere, treachery. I can not risk my family…"

"Gault!" Batra scolded him.

"Please, Sir. I know that you helped me once before, and at great risk to yourself and your family, and I am very grateful."

"No one on this planet did anything worthy of your gratitude," he told her sadly.

"But I need your help again," Deanna continued. "If you would just hear me out."

Gault stood in silence, his large bulk filling the middle of the room, seeming to consider what it was that she asked. "What is it you need? I have a few uhrs. There are some weapons…"

"That isn't what we need," Will stopped him. "Is there someplace that we could talk?"

….

Batra passed the sweet bread around the low table where they were gathered. Her daughter, Shaule, followed filling small cups with tea. Will and Deanna sat together on one side of the table, Gault and his son Torvan sat across from them as Will began to tell them how he and Deanna had escaped the planet moths ago.

Deanna watched the young girl pour the liquid into her cup and she tried to smile at her, but everything about the substance frightened her. Will noticed how intently she was staring at her cup. He picked up his own and tired to get a smell of it.

"It is a root tea," Batra told him.

Deanna felt her adrenalin spike.

Will indicated Deanna with a glance. "She was given a root tea while she was on the planet…"

"Oh, no." Batra tried to ease their fears. "This is the root of a citrus tree. It is a sweet tea. I would never serve you fala root, dear," she told her kindly, coming to sit next to her and touching her arm warmly.

"I didn't mean to imply that you would," Deanna assured her.

"Civilized people do not drink Fala Root," Gault said a bit roughly. "Though there is a distinct lack of civility in our culture currently," he admitted.

Deanna looked down at her hands, slightly ashamed, but Batra urged her on.

"Here, try the sweet bread," she offered. "And please, continue," she told Will.

Will continued to talk as the rest ate and listened.

"I don't understand why the Federation wants to help us _now,_" Gault asked. "I was always told they would not interfere."

Will paused to try to find the right words. "Well, it is a bit complicated. There are times when we want to help, but are bound by our founding principles not to interfere. Now, however, we realize that there was already interference from another world. It is our job to minimize it."

"So what is it you need from us?" Batra asked.

Deanna put down her teacup and began to speak. "There are some of us who believe we are honor bound to step in and render assistance. But there are others who shy away from this kind of conflict. In order for aid to be meaningful, we need the support of many worlds in this sector. That will still require some convincing."

"There is a conference on Ura 5 in 7 days," Will told them. "If we can get these worlds to sign an agreement, we can start proving this aid."

Batra turned to her husband. "Do you have any idea what medical supplies could do for so many? And educational supplies! Think of it Gault! Replicating food… no children starving or families selling their daughters into marriages so they can feed themselves."

"No. I cannot go. If I were to disappear, the spies would know. We would never be allowed to live, any of us. We would be hunted," Gault told him.

"I respect that decision," Will told him. "But it is not actually you who we were hoping would speak."

The family looked around puzzled, until their eyes seemed to settle on Batra. "Me?" she asked in disbelief. "I don't know what I could possibly offer…"

"All we ask is that you tell your story," Deanna told her. "As I will tell mine."

The room had fallen very quiet as Batra contemplated Deanna's words.

Finally Batra answered them. "I will do whatever I can to help my people," she said simply.

"Batra!" her husband urged caution.

But Batra was determined. "You are doing what you can to preserve the life you hold dear. I will do the same."

"You cannot leave the children here alone."

Torvan spoke up. "Then I can go to fight with you, Father."

"No! And leave Shaule alone? This will not work!"

"Then I will take Shaule with me," she told him, turning slightly to Deanna who nodded her consent.

"How will you leave? How long will you be gone? There is a planetary shield, and even if you could get through…"

"We can get through," Will urged. "We have several times now. We can travel out together tonight. But we must leave in a few hours."

Gault pointed to Commander Riker angrily. "You come here and expect me to turn my wife and my daughter over to you! You can not say when they will be back, _if_ they will be back!"

Deanna came to Will's defense. "Our only desire is to help your people."

But Will didn't need her help. He leaned into the table and held Gault's gaze. "Six months ago, I wandered into this village with no idea of the atmosphere I was walking into. I had one goal, to find Deanna and bring her home. You sent your son out after me. He brought me into your home, where you cornered me, asking pointing questions about who I was. I had to trust you to get what I wanted. I took a risk. I told you who I was and what I needed. And you helped me. Gault, show me that same trust. Let me help you now."

The children in the room anxiously watched as their parents exchanged pointed looks. It was a long moment of silence. Then Batra gathered her skirt and looked determinedly at her husband as she stood. "I am going," she told him. "I trust them." She turned to Deanna and Will. "When will we need to leave?"

….

Will watched as Gault worked out his frustration with physical labor as he hoisted bales of food into the pens for the animals. Will had done the same type of thing countless times; hoping physical exertion could calm him. Will had hoped that even if Gault didn't agree, that he wouldn't stop Batra if she chose to go with them, and that is exactly what this man had done.

Will stood in the door between the home and stable area, carved back into the hillside, forming a cave. He could see the light coming from the outside, where the animals roamed in the pens that he had seen when he entered the village. He could hear Deanna inside, helping Batra and her daughter hastily pack their bags. They would leave in a bit over an hour. The transport window would be open anytime from five to seven hours from then, but the last thing Will wanted was for them to miss it. He also knew that three women in tow meant far slower travel times than he would have liked.

He felt bad for Gault. He knew the level of trust he was asking for and wondered what he would do if their situation was reversed. Will stepped out into the cave and began looking around for a shovel of some sort so he could help Gault in his work, since his son seemed to have disappeared in a teen-age tantrum of sorts as soon as his father told him that he would not take him to fight with the other members of the resistance.

The work Gault was doing looked easy enough, bailing the food over the fences. But when Will made his attempt at it, the bale simply hit the fence and landed in a scattered mess at his feet.

Gault almost chuckled. "I hope you are a better Star Fleet officer than you are a rancher, Commander," he told him as he dropped his own work and came to help Will gather up the mess.

"Sorry about that," Will told him, but Gault simply shrugged. The spilt food for the animals was not what was troubling him.

"I know I am asking a great deal of you," Will admitted. "But our goals are the same, you and I."

Gault looked pensively at his guest. "I will hold you personally responsible for my wife and daughter's safety," he told Will slowly.

"And I take that responsibility very seriously," Will assured him.

Gault abandoned his work and sat on a bench along the wall, looking emotionally and physically drained. "You say it will be three weeks? At least?"

Will nodded. "What will you do while they are gone?"

"Return to the resistance. We need every man we can find."

"And yet, you expect Torvan to stay here, alone."

"He is just a boy!" Gault told him firmly.

"All I know is if I were his age, in this situation… I would want to fight too," Will told him.

"The glories of war,' Gault muttered under his breath. "The ideological images passed along by those who have never seen the savagery that comes with it. And yet… maybe I have asked too much of him, to remain locked away here, charged with protecting his mother and sister."

"It seems like a heavy burden for a boy his age," Will agreed. "But children are not oblivious to the wars around them. You can not isolate him from it either."

"Are you a father, Commander?" Gault asked curiously.

Will shook his head. "No. But the Enterprise has many children aboard. Deanna has had to counsel many of them about loosing a parent. More than I would have liked."

"She is a doctor?"

"A physiologist," Will corrected.

Gault's face scrunched into a confused expression. "Really?" he asked.

"That surprises you?"

"No, I suppose. It is just…" Gault glanced towards the house. "She seems to be a delightful woman. I have never met a physiologist who hasn't made me very uncomfortable."

Will's face burst into a smile. "Well, she is one of a kind," he told him.

"I can see that. Perhaps that is why you were lost without her."

Will looked back at the older man as he rested on the bench. "Lost?" he asked.

"When we first met, you seemed to carry a burden too heavy for any man," Galt told him, rising from his seat. "Now, after all these months, with her at your side, you seem more comfortable with yourself…Whole, even."

Will was surprised with Gault's bold assertion, and was left staring at the man, not knowing what to say.

"I think you would be a good father," Gault continued on a different topic, patting Will on the shoulder as he passed to continue dispersing food to the waiting animals.

"Oh, I don't know about that."

Gault glanced back at the house. "I said that, before I married Batra."

Both men returned to their manual labor and after one more failed throw, Will found the trick of it.

"So tell me, Torvan doesn't attend school?" Will asked as they worked.

Gault let out a long sigh. "You will find, Commander, that our schools have become little more than a breeding ground for the kind of hate and intolerance that this movement is using to poison young minds. At first it was that girls should attend different schools, then it was no schools, but the day that the boys my son's age were encouraged to beat young women or throw acid in their faces for them daring to pursue an education that was rightfully a mans…that was the last day my son set foot in one of those 'schools'. Since then Batra has taught them at home. But Batra…she is a surgeon, not a teacher. I have no doubt that either one of my children could sew up any cut that knife of yours created, but they lack the finer advantages I wish I could give them, the arts and literature. If anyone knew that Shaule could read…I hate to think of what would happen to her," he said looking protectively back towards the open doorway to his home.

Suddenly there was the sound of feet running outside in the street. "Gault!" a voice cried in a harsh whisper. "Gault!"

With a look Gault indicated for Will to move away from the entrance to the stable area back further towards the home. He could see Gault's tenser stance, and Will immediately went to the door of the home, prepared to protect those who were inside.

"Gault!" the voice called again.

With a small nod to Commander Riker, Gault stepped forward to where he could be seen from the street. He had a look of calm on his face that was not echoed in the rest of his body. "Yes, yes. Horran. What is it?"

"They say a man and woman entered the village. Erave's wife said they came to your door. Are you alright?"

"There is nothing to be alarmed about. It was my wife's sister and her husband, from Kamreen. They have come to take Batra and Shaule away with them. It is more peaceful there."

"And you are letting them go?" the man asked, stunned.

"I asked him to come and take them. It is his duty to his family," Gault told the lie so smoothly that Will was impressed. He had created an identity for them, just with a few words, an identity that would allow Batra and Shaule to travel with them without undue scrutiny.

"And Torvan? He will come and fight then?"

Gault stood perfectly still, unwilling to answer.

"Pardeh said we needed every man," the man said darkly.

"I know what he said."

"And yet you hesitate."

"He is _my _son. I make choices for him, not Pardeh."

"Perhaps it is what you are or aren't willing to sacrifice for the resistance." There was a challenge to the younger man's tone, and in a moment, Gault was at the fence and had the younger man by the collar of his shirt.

"I was resisting this movement when you were still praying at their meetings, cursing and torturing women! Don't tell me that I have not sacrificed enough!" Gault threw the younger man away from him and he fell to the ground on the other side of the fence. As soon as he landed, he was scrambling back up on his feet.

"Now," Gault said, with a more calm voice, "go tell Pardeh that I will return tomorrow. Go!" he shouted when the man hesitated, and in a moment he was scurrying off. Gault watched him go for a while before he turned back to where Will watched the scene play out in front of him.

"Forgive me," he offered, picking up his shovel and going back to work as if nothing had happened.

"A friend of yours?" Will asked.

"A member of the resistance. Even on the other side, some are turning to extremes. Others are… let us say, we trust some more than others."

"And him?" Will gestured in the direction that the man had scurried off.

"He is a rat. He wants power, regardless of what side it is on. Pardeh leads the resistance in these hills. He is a great warrior, but he isn't much better."

"What was that about the glories of war?" Will asked a bit sarcastically.

….

Within two hours the women were packed and bidding their family goodbye. The four of them huddled together, crying openly, not knowing what the next few weeks would bring.

Will Riker and Deanna Troi stood apart, near the door, each carrying their own bag. Deanna could feel the overwhelming grief and uncertainty from each member of the family. The emotions were so strong that they almost overtook her. Will put a calming hand on her shoulder as they watched the family say their final farewells.

Finally Gault released his tight hold on his wife and turned to Commander Riker. "I bid you safe journeys Commander," he offered.

"And you," Will replied. "Stay low, and know that help is coming."

"If I have anything to say about it," Batra said cheekily, as if trying to lighten her husband's heart.

Gault scooped his twelve-year-old daughter up into his arms as if she were no more than a baby and embraced her. When he set her down, he kissed each palm of her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "Listen to your mother," he said simply.

As they all stepped towards the door, Gault put out one hand, his palm facing his wife, and she placed her hand up to meet his, palm to palm in the air between them. They did not speak. There was nothing left to say. It was the last bit of reassuring touch she could offer him, before she covered herself and her daughter with shrouds before Torvan opened the door.

The heat from the sun was far more bearable, now that it lay lower in the sky. Without another word, Will lead the way out the door, Batra behind him, Shaule following in a single file line and Deanna bringing up the rear. He hated that Deanna was so physically far from him, but he knew that she was capable of taking care of herself.

Will had been right. Traveling with three women was considerably slower. Though Deanna was relived to see that Batra and Shaule struggled as much with walking amongst the brush shrouded as she had. Once they were well outside the village, Batra asked to stop and she gathered her shroud to the side, tying it neatly, and then did the same for her daughter. Deanna followed suit and the four began to walk as a group, trying to keep as fast a pace as their feet would allow.

"Where is it that we are going, Commander?" Batra asked after almost half an hour of walking.

"It is a ways ahead. It's the nearest gap in the shield grid and will allow our starship to beam us out," Will answered her.

"Did you say 'gap'?" Batra asked, struggling to keep up with his long stride.

Will nodded. "The shield has multiple generators and there are gaps in the configuration. They are rotating them in an attempt to make it more secure, but it always leaves a gap."

Batra eyes were wide before she shook her head. "It is clear to me that the things the militia tells the people that they are capable of is not necessarily the truth," she told him.

Behind them Batra's daughter scurried along with Deanna.

"You're nails are so clean," Shaule said almost shyly as she studied Deanna's hands as they walked. "They almost shine. How do you make them do that?" she asked her.

Deanna didn't glance down at her hands. She didn't want to see the ridge there. Instead she smiled back at the young girl. "I cover them with a clear polish," she told her honestly. "And I think you will find that there is not the sort of manual labor on a star ship as you have here in your home."

"What is a starship like? Is it small? Do you all have your own room?" Shaule asked.

"The Enterprise is a very large ship, but there are over a thousand people on board. Some lower ranking officers have roommates," Deanna tried to answer her questions.

"Do you?" Shaule asked.

"No, I am a member of the senior officers and I have quarters all to myself."

"Where does Commander Riker sleep?"

Shaule's question was innocent, but Will couldn't help looking back at his companion with a pointed look.

"Commander Riker has his own quarters as well," Deanna answered.

"Please forgive my daughter," Batra told them. "She has never left our home world and knows little outside our village and families. She is full of questions."

"That is perfectly natural," Deanna told the girls mother.

"I hope she does not bother you," Batra apologized, gazing sharply at her eager daughter.

"Not at all," Deanna answered as they continued on their way.

Deanna could see Shaule trying to control herself, to please her mother and to not annoy those that she traveled with, but curiosity was simply too much for a girl her age. Deanna had thought when they had first met that Shaule seemed very quiet and withdrawn, but now that they had warmed up to each other a bit, she found her almost bubbly.

"What about your eyes?" Shaule asked, unable to stop herself. "They're so dark. And what makes the colors that are on your face?"

Deanna tired to answer, but Shaule continued on without even a pause.

"Are there lots of females in Star Fleet or is it mostly men? Don't you get lonely living alone? Aren't you married? Do you want to have children? Or do women in Star Fleet not have children? You're not really Galian. Are you human?"

"Shaule," her mother almost groaned, hoping to contain her daughter's curiosity.

"I'm half Betazoid half Human," Deanna answered the last question first.

"Do you ever go back there? Do you have family? Don't you miss them?"

Deanna began to realize that she had no hope of keeping up with the young girl's questions, but tired her best as they continued to walk through the hills.

Will looked back to Batra and saw her roll her eyes, as her daughter launched into another long list of questions.

"Just wait until she reached the Enterprise," Will said smiling.

They walked on for another hour listening to Shaule chatter away, occasionally pausing long enough to allow Deanna the opportunity to answer the questions she was asking.

Finally they reached the area of small boulders where Will and Deanna had beamed into. They were still forty-eight minutes from the early edge of the possible transport window, but it didn't stop Will from giving it a try. He tapped at his belt buckle. "Riker to Enterprise… do you read me?"

The three women who accompanied him waited in silence, but there was no answer.

Shaule turned to Deanna worried. "Now what?" she asked.

"It's alright," Deanna assured her, taking her hand. "The planetary shield is stronger than it was when we were here before. We will not be able to send or receive any transmittions until we are in the shield gap. And the gap could open any time in the next four hours. Everything is alright."

"When the gap opens, the Enterprise will contact us," Will told them. "All we have to do is sit here and wait."

But waiting was not something that came naturally to Will Riker. After two hours, he couldn't stop himself from tapping his communicator and calling out to his ship. There was still no answer. He knew he had no reason to feel alarmed, and yet his uneasiness continued to grow.

Deanna had settled onto a rock with Shaule and was playing little games to keep her occupied. Shaule seemed to have taken to Deanna on their journey. Batra would occasionally comment, or shake her head at her daughter when she asked a question that she thought was inappropriate, but she was not as easily distracted as her daughter. She could see the commander's tension growing with every passing moment. Occasionally Deanna would look up from her children's game and smile at Commander Riker, or give his a small reassuring nod. They seemed to have an almost unspoken communication.

The sun was sinking down in the sky when Will began to open his bag. "It may be awhile longer," he told them all. "We should eat."

As he reached into the bag, he noticed how dusty and dirty his hands had become and half-heartedly wiped them on his pants.

"Wiping dirty hands on dirty pants will not get them cleaner, Commander," Batra told him in a very motherly tone. "There is a stream over there where we can wash appropriately."

Will looked to Deanna and she nodded her encouragement. The stream was not far from where they waited and Will and Batra made their way to it. Will thrust his hands into the water gratefully. "The dust…" he tried to explain.

"It may be hard to believe, but you do get used to it. Of course, this is the dry season. It is not always this bad. There are some who believe that this shield has affected the weather patterns." Batra took the edge of her shroud, wetting it in the stream and wiped her face clean.

Will almost chuckled. "It's good to see it is useful for something," he said pointing the fabric.

Batra nodded, smiling as well. "Yes, an excellent side benefit." Batra looked back to her daughter and Deanna as they played some sort of hand game together. Shaule apparently won the game and Deanna began to laugh. Batra watched for another moment before turning back to Commander Riker.

"Has it been awful for her?" she asked. "She seems to be recovering better than I would expect for what she went through."

Will let out a long sigh. "Deanna has an incredibly strong spirit," he told her. But when Batra looked at him with more question in her expression, he continued. "It was rough for a while, really rough, actually. There was a moment or two I was afraid I had lost her to it."

Batra put her hand on his arm to alleviate the worried look that crossed his face. "It took great courage for her to come back here," she told him. "She is a remarkable person. I see now why your heart ached for her so terribly the first time we met."

Will thought back to that first meeting. "I care for her very much," he said.

"You love her," Batra answered back, simply. "I have seen enough ill people in my life who were looking around desperately, for that one person, the person who made them better or stronger, the one who could protect them or hold their world together. I know the look. I saw it on your face six months ago. I see it now. It must be very hard for you to wait for her to recover from this."

Will smiled back at the woman beside him. "I'm a patient man."

Batra raised an eyebrow.

"I'm working on it," he shrugged before heading back to where Deanna and Shaule waited.

They ate together, protected from the growing breeze only by the few boulders that surrounded them. The wind was dusty, and stung at their eyes as it gusted along.

Will continued his efforts to communicate with the Enterprise as time slowly ticked past, but to no avail. By the time that the sun had slipped over the horizon, there was a nervous silence between them. Batra had started a small fire. It was enough to keep warm now that the sun had set.

Deanna sat perched on the top of the tallest rock, her legs tucked to her chest as she watched Batra and her daughter around the fire. Will had been using his knife to widdle away at a small stick, but he tossed it aside in frustration.

Deanna could sense the groups growing edgy as the time for the transport window came and went in silence. Her own fear encroached on her more and more as the light fell. She couldn't sense her surroundings as well as she would have liked and the added impediment of darkness made her unease grow. The firelight wasn't helping either, as she shook her head to rid it of the images of the last fire she had sat around on this planet.

Will Riker climbed up and took a seat next to her. He noticed the shake of her head. "Hey, you doing okay?" he asked.

Deanna tried to smile reassuringly at him, but the look didn't come off quite right. The knowledge that she would only be on the planet for a certain amount of time had been her greatest comfort, but now, the thought of being trapped was sending chills down her spine and making her stomach turn.

"You didn't eat anything earlier. You should eat," Will offered, but Deanna only shook her head, her eyes starring firmly at the fire in front of them.

"Dea?"

"I can't eat. Please," she turned to him and motioned with her hand. "Just let this one go." She couldn't bear to drag this particular pain back out and dwell on it when she already didn't feel safe. "What do we do?" She asked him, hoping to draw his attention away from her ever-increasing sense of panic.

Will gave a small shrug. "We give it some time."

"The shield gap was supposed to be over us hours ago."

"I know," Will said, trying to smile casually towards Batra and her daughter, hoping to ease their tension. "Maybe Data's calculations were…"

"Off?" Deanna asked incredulous. "Should I bother pointing out that _you_ don't even believe that?"

Will gave up, shaking his head.

"Is it possible that the Enterprise was spotted in orbit?" Deanna asked. "They may have had to retreat."

"It's a possibility. Or they may have detected us beaming in and reset their shield harmonics, screwed up Data's patterns," Will said pensively.

Deanna looked down to where her bag sat at the base of the rock where they sat. "We can cut through the shield…" Deanna reminded him.

But Will immediately shook his head. "No. If we activate one of the beacons and the Enterprise isn't in orbit for whatever reason…it's like we shot off a flare for the militants to find us." He immediately saw Deanna tense. "Not yet. Let's give the ship some time."

Deanna looked around them into the growing darkness. "How much time?" she asked.

"We'll settle in for the night," Will told her. "If we haven't heard from the Enterprise by morning, we'll take Batra and Shaule back to the village, then get as far out into the hills as we can and activate one of the beacons."

"And if the Enterprise isn't there?" Deanna asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her as she choked back her fear.

"Then," Will let out a long breath. "We run like hell and try to wait it out, find another opportunity to use the other beacon."

"We would have failed," Deanna said, glancing over to the mother and daughter who sat cuddled together by the fire.

"Sometimes missions like this become more about survival than success or failure. I can't risk activating a beacon with them with us. If it failed, the results would be too catastrophic."

"I agree," Deanna told him.

"It's getting late," Will said, glancing around. There was a bit of light from one of the galian moons, but clouds overhead obscured most of the light. "You should get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

But Deanna shook her head. "No, you go. I'll stay up. I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway," she confessed.

"Are you sure?"

Deanna nodded again. Will seemed to understand. He took the knife from his belt and sat it on the rock next to where Deanna sat. "If you get tired…"

"I'll kick you," she told him. It made Will smile at least as he slid from the rock and approached Batra to let her know they would be sleeping here.

Deanna spent the first few hours keeping a mental watch as she gathered a few more sticks to keep the fire burning to warm the bodies who rested nearby. Batra lay with her daughter, their shrouds wrapped over them like blankets. Will Riker lay on his back, on the opposite side of the fire. Deanna could tell that, if he were asleep at all, it was only a very shallow sleep. She knew that he would be awake with the slightest noise from her.

She tried to project soothing thoughts to him, to help him rest, but she was having trouble finding soothing thoughts inside her. This was not supposed to be how this went. She was supposed to be safely back on the Enterprise by now.

Finally she found herself perched on the rock again, fiddling with the knife in her hands. She could feel waves of fatigue, but she was not yet ready to close her eyes, so she let the others rest.

Batra slowly stirred, her body protesting the hard surface under her. She moved away from her daughter and stood stretching out her long body. Her eyes met Deanna's from her perch on the rock, through the dim firelight. She stepped around the sleeping bodies and slipped into the place next to Deanna.

"You must be tired," Batra whispered. "Why don't you lay down? I will keep watch."

Deanna shook her head slightly. "When I am too tired, I will wake Commander Riker."

"I'm more than capable. You can not have lived the last year or so on this planet without learning to protect yourself." Batra held out her hand to Deanna for the knife she held.

Deanna considered it for a moment before she handed it to her.

Batra held it in her hand, seeming lost in her own thoughts for a moment. "I became a surgeon to heal people," she spoke, though she seemed somehow distant. "I went to school and they taught me how to cut someone, but always for the purpose of healing them. I never dreamed that there would come a day that I would use those same movements to end someone's life."

Deanna looked back as the woman next to her, shocked. This woman was not someone she would picture as a killer. Of course Deanna didn't think of herself as a killer either. And yet, she would have killed the men who attacked her, at any opportunity.

Batra responded as if she had read Deanna's thoughts. "I know it was awful for you," she told her kindly. "But you survived it, and for that alone, you have my respect."

"Thank you," Deanna said humbly.

"He's dead," Batra offered.

Deanna's eyes flew open wide, in utter confusion.

"Mortain of Toliva," Batra concluded. "He's dead. I thought you would want to know."

The mear mention of his name sent a shiver down Deanna's back and her stomach sank. He was dead. Deanna was suddenly awash in emotions, relief, sadness, guilt… they were disorganized and some even misplaced, but she found her voice enough to ask a question. "How?"

"Stabbed in the street. Some say it was the militia taking over that section of the surrounding city, but Gault and his friends tend to believe it was at his father's hand. He was simply becoming too powerful, and his father needed to retain as much power as possible to use to maintain his position once the militia took control."

"When?" Deanna asked, her voice no more than a harsh whisper.

"Three months ago."

The two women fell silent, staring at the firelight as Deanna absorbed the information she had just been given.

After several moments Batra broke the silence. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I thought it might bring you some comfort, knowing he would never hurt someone else, the way he did you. I didn't mean to trouble you."

Still Deanna tried to organize her emotions. After another long pause in the night, Deanna turned to face her companion. "Batra, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What would happen to you if Gault were to die?"

Deanna saw the troubled look in Batra's eyes, and offered more as to why she was asking. "Mortain's wife."

The worry left Batra's features, and she nodded her understanding. "In our culture, if a man dies, his property transfers to the nearest male heir, as long as they are of age. In a few years, Torvan will be of age and if Gault were to pass on, all of his possessions would go to Torvan, including his sister and myself. He would be responsible for caring for us, providing us with food and clothing and shelter. But he would also have complete control of who Shaule would be allowed to marry."

"And if he were not yet of age?"

"Gault has a younger brother in Kamreen. The children and I would become his, as would all of our belongings."

"And he would become…your husband?" Deanna asked, trying to be tactful.

"He would have that right, under the law. Yes. But it is not required. He could just provide for us. He would most likely sell Shaule away as a wife to pay for our care."

Deanna felt her stomach turn. "She is only twelve."

Batra nodded, a forlorn look in her eye. "She would not be the youngest bride I have seen." She turned back to Deanna. "Mortain had several wives. But his first wife, she was taken as the wife of his younger brother and is living in a village called Rohek, to the east of here. Her husband is far kinder to her than his brother ever was. He is a member of the resistance. That is how we learned so much of you, even that you were poisoned before leaving. She is fine. The other wives were scattered about. Some, no doubt ended up with his father, some others were probably returned to their families."

"That must have made them very happy," Deanna said relieved.

"Being returned to your family is an act of shaming a girl, and her family. It is seen as the worst thing that can happen. They are saying she is worthless."

"Oh," Deanna looked at her hands, clasped in her lap, trying to understand a culture that was so forging to her. "And what about her children? What happened to them?" she asked, remembering how terrified the woman had been about being separated from them.

Batra almost smiled. "They are with her."

Deanna couldn't hide her sigh of relief.

"You show this woman great compassion. More than she showed to you…" Batra suggested.

"She had no more freedom than I did," Deanna assured her. "We were both prisoners."

Batra reached out and took Deanna's hand. "It tells me a great deal of your character that you can find the distinction."

"What about you, Batra? How have you survived this?" Deanna asked, full of concern.

Batra's face grew dark and her emotions determined. She looked down at her sleeping daughter. "I have protected my daughter. That is all that matters."

Deanna could feel her underlying pain. It mirrored her own. She clung tighter to her hand as Batra's eyes filled with tears. Deanna's followed suit and there was a moment of bonding between them, that neither could describe, one where they understood the other's pain and could find strength in the other. They embraced for a long moment, before Batra pulled away, drying her eyes.

"You go on and lay down. I will watch for a bit."

Deanna still hesitated. But Will seemed to finally be resting peacefully.

Batra gave her a nod. "Go," she urged her and she watched closely as Deanna slipped from the rock and approached the fire near where Will Riker lay. She lay next to him, and as if on instinct, Commander Riker rolled to his side, to be nearer to her, and wrapped his arm around her waist as they both dozed in the firelight.

….

Deanna woke at the first sign of light. The fire was barely alive next to her and Will Riker was no longer by her side. She looked across and found Batra and Shaule cuddled back together for warmth. Warmth was not something they would need to be worried about for long, as the sun climbed in the sky. Deanna smoothed her hair back from her face and reached to retie it in a quick knot behind her head, while standing and stretching out the kinks in her neck and legs.

She saw Will making his way back from the stream, carrying something. "Hi," she said quietly as she approached him.

"Good morning," he said, offering her the small piece of wood in his hand that he had hollowed out to form a rough bucket.

"Aren't you handy," she told him taking it and washing her face.

"A jack of all trades," he said sarcastically.

Deanna turned serious. "No word?"

Will only shook his head. "We'll let them sleep for a bit, then eat, but we are going to have to take them back," he said sadly.

"Hopefully we can find Gault and let him know what has happened," Deanna said, coming to terms with the defeat. "Which one of us will tell them?"

"Tell us what?" Batra asked, rising from the ground and coming to join them. Her daughter was only a few steps behind her.

Will and Deanna shared a quick look.

"That we may have put you through this for nothing," Deanna confessed.

"There is a problem. Our ship has still not contacted us, and we can't risk activating a transport beacon with you two with us. If it were to fail, the militia would detect it for sure," Will explained.

"But we could wait a little longer," Shaule offered.

"Yes. We can wait," Batra suggested.

But Will began to shake his head. He would feel like a sitting duck if they remained in this spot any longer.

"Commander, I can not so easily give up on a chance at hope for my people," Batra said firmly.

"That is certainly not my wish, but your safety and the safety of your daughter must be my first priority."

"And we have no say?" Shaule asked.

Will looked from mother to daughter and saw the striking resemblance in everything from their hair to their rebellious stance in front of him. "Please, try to understand," he offered, but the group fell suddenly silent as the air filled with a slight pop and then static.

"B..ge to Comm…r..R…ker." The voice was unmistakably Data's.

Will looked to Deanna quickly before tapping at the communicator hidden in his belt. "Yes, Data we're here. It's good to hear your voice."

"An…you..s Com…nd..r. It…ould se..m tha…my calc..lations…ere…not as pre…sise…as…fi..st…thou…t."

For the first time that morning, Will smiled. "Just a bit off, it would seem. Don't worry. I'll court martial you later. How much time do we have?"

"Twenty min…ts…ourteen se…onds."

"Standby," Will turned to the others. "We need to get a move on."

The four scattered, picking up their belongings and putting them in their bags. Then Will stomped out what remained of the fire. He turned to Batra. "Have you ever used a molecular transport before?"

Batra shook her head, her eyes wide.

"It's not at all painful. Just remember to breath," he told her.

Deanna watched as Shaule tensed, looking wide eyed between her mother and Commander Riker. She stepped closer and put an arm around her shoulder, protectively. "Just close your eyes. You won't feel a thing."

Will made one last check. "Alright Data. We're ready. Four to beam up."

"Four..Sir?"

The group exchanged another look. "We will explain once we're onboard."

"A..ye...ir." Data responded. "Ener…izing."

Deanna felt Shaule's arms slip around her waist tightly as the beam began to compress the space around them. She didn't know if the young girl's tension was greater, or her own relief. She was almost home.


	29. Home 29

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Thank you all, and I am duly impressed with all of your ability to review when properly motivated. :) I am even more impressed with how kind you all were, considering I just realized I posted the unedited version of 28 instead of the edited one. I read through it briefly and was horrified by the sheer number of typos. Tikva will be so disappointed in me. :( And on that subject, my writing buddy and dear editor who reviewed most, if not all of these 200,000 words, is off on a dream vacation (note my envy) and will have to read the last two chapters with the rest of you when she returns. It was not the same writing them without her :( But I am happy to note that one of my absolutely devoted readers (who chooses to remain anonymous) stepped in and took a look at the last two for me. She has warned me that she is not a beta, so take all the typos that may still exists and blame them firmly on me. And thank you- you know who you are. I am grateful for the help and input.

We are almost to the end. The last chapter will be patiently awaiting posting until it's predecessor has been properly reviewed. Oh, and if you haven't reviewd 28, because you didn't read it until 29 was already posted...don't think that because 10 other people got there first that you are excused. :)

M

**Chapter 29:**

As the light faded away, the transporter room came into clear view.

Batra gasped as she regained her footing and Shaule hugged tightly to Deanna's body.

"Don't be afraid," Deanna told her.

The doors to the transporter room opened and Captain Picard came in, looking anxious.

"What happened Sir?" Will asked.

"They must have detected the first transporter beam, so they reset their shield harmonics. Are you alright?"

"Yes, Sir. We're all fine." Will looked back to his companions, nodding slightly at Deanna to ask if they all were, in fact, alright. She gave a quick nod in return, and he turned back to the captain. "Captain, may I introduce Batra of Vore. Batra, this is Captain Picard."

The captain stepped forward and offered a hand to Batra, who bowed slightly and kissed his palm. The captain smiled reassuringly to the woman who looked slightly overwhelmed. "Welcome aboard, Batra. I am very pleased that you have agreed to accompany us."

"It is my honor, Captain."

"And this is her daughter," Commander Riker continued, indicating the young girl still clinging to Deanna.

"Daughter?" the captain asked quietly leaning close to his first officer.

Will answered him equally quietly. "It was necessary, sir. Leaving her there would have been something akin to leaving raw meat in front of a lion," Will whispered.

"Uh, yes." The captain made an effort to seem unruffled. "Welcome aboard."

Shaule stared back at the captain until Deanna whispered something in her ear. "Thank you," she told him softly.

The captain nodded a bit awkwardly, then turned back to his first officer. "We have changed course and are on our way to Ura 5. We are expected to arrive in five days." He turned back to Batra. "We have assigned quarters for you for he duration of your stay. If there is anything that you require…"

"I do not wish to trouble you or your ship in any way, Captain," Batra said calmly. She motioned to her daughter and Shaule obediently let go of Deanna and came to her mother's side. "If you will show us to our quarters, we will remain there, quietly and out of the way."

The captain looked from his first officer to his ships counselor for some sort of a cultural cue.

"Batra, that is a very respectful gesture, but I assure you, it isn't necessary," Deanna told her, coming to stand nearer to her. "The Enterprise is a large ship, and there are many amenities aboard that you are welcome to use as you see fit. You won't be in anyone's way."

The captain followed Deanna's lead. "Yes, you are a guest here and we are most grateful for your assistance, both with this mission, and for the assistance you offered my first officer when you first met."

Batra visibly shrunk back at the mention of their previous encounter, and the three officers were left confused.

"Batra?" Will asked cautiously, wondering what had upset her.

"Forgive me, Captain," Batra spoke, her voice an emotional whisper. It was as if guilt had overtaken her. "We couldn't…" she began, but tears choked her voice.

Deanna thought she understood. Batra felt the same shame and guilt as her husband, taking on the burden for the sins of their countrymen. "Batra," Deanna said reaching out to her. "You did everything you could to help me. You should not feel sadness or shame about things that were out of your control."

"There was nothing you could have done," the captain offered.

But Batra shook her head slightly. "We could have," she admitted quietly. "They offered to sell her to us, but the price was more than we could ever have gathered. And then… the man who held her…he offered us a trade."

Will Riker watched as Batra grappled with her own choices. He had heard the story once before, but it didn't make it easier to watch the others realize what the sacrifice would have required.

"He wanted Shaule in her place," Batra told them as the room listened in silence.

Will watched the look of horror cross Deanna's features. She slipped a protective arm around the young girl at her side, as if that could somehow protect her from the sort of horror that she had endured.

"We couldn't allow it," Batra continued. "The sacrifice was too great. I hope you will forgive me, Captain. I hope you all can forgive us for the choices we made."

Will Riker looked away from the women on the transporter pad, back over his shoulder to where his captain stood, stunned. Will seemed the least taken aback, so he spoke on their behalf. "Batra," he spoke slowly. "I told you that was not a sacrifice that Deanna would have ever wanted."

He looked to Deanna, who had tears in her eyes. Shaule looked up at her face, hopeful that what Will said was true. Deanna responded by wrapping the girl in her arms, shielding her from harm.

"Of course not," she whispered.

"It was neither required," the captain said, finally finding his voice, "nor is it a sacrifice we could have accepted. Please," he said, offering his hand to both mother and daughter. "accept our gratitude as it was intended." He watched Batra for a moment before adding, "From what little I have seen, I have to say, I think you will speak very well on your planet's behalf."

Something about the captain's sincere words lifted Batra's heavy heart, and allowed her to smile in return.

Will stepped up again, anxious to see the unpleasant moment pass. "Batra, let me show you to your quarters," he offered. "Once you're settled, we can see about getting Shaule into school."

"School?" Batra and her daughter asked in unison.

The captain nodded. "Of course. If she would like to attend classes during your stay, she is more than welcome to do so."

"There is a school on the ship?" Shaule asked in the same curious manner as the day before.

"There are over two hundred children on board," Deanna told her. "Several your age."

Batra looked hesitant. "Shaule hasn't been able to attended school in years," she told them. "She could never keep up with the other children, academically."

"I doubt that," Will said, winking at the girl at her mother's side, who smiled at him mischievously. "And it would not be required of her. Gault mentioned that she could read…"

Something about the idea seemed to unnerve Batra.

"It is perfectly safe," Deanna assured her. "No harm will come to her aboard this ship."

"May I, Mother?" Shaule pleaded.

Batra turned to her daughter, very seriously. "You must promise that they things that you learn and see here…you can never repeat them. No one on our world must ever know. It's a terrible burden to place on you, but you must promise me. It would be very dangerous for you otherwise."

Shaule was equally solemn as she shook her head. "I promise you, Mother." She turned immediately to Commander Riker. "May I go now?" She asked.

"You don't want to see where you'll be staying?"

Shaule shook her head, her hair bouncing across her face.

Will looked from the captain to the girl's mother, who both gave a small nod, then he shrugged his shoulders. "Come on," he said with a sigh.

"I'll take you to your quarters," Deanna assured Batra, as her daughter went bounding out the door, the first officer in tow.

As they left the room and walked to the lift, Deanna hesitated. "Would you mind if we made one stop first?" she asked.

"Of Course not."

Deanna rubbed slightly at the ridge on the back of her hand. "This was surgically implanted…" she began.

"And you would like it removed as soon as possible. I understand. I watched you rub at it all afternoon yesterday."

Deanna hung her head, ashamed that she couldn't better hide her discomfort with her altered appearance. But Batra reached out to her and covered Deanna's hands with her own. She smiled a kind, understanding smile. Deanna hoped that she had taken no offence. The two women stepped into the lift together. "Sickbay," Deanna called, and the lift set out on its way.

"There are medical facilities aboard as well?" Batra asked.

Deanna nodded.

"I would be interested to meet your physician."

Deanna let a small smile cross her face. "I think that can be arranged."

When they entered the room Deanna introduced Batra to Beverly Crusher and the two women began chatting like old friends. Batra seemed to come alive as she discussed medical things as Beverly quickly removed the ridge along the back of each of Deanna's hands.

And the conversation was not one sided. Beverly asked many questions about the use of roots in Galian medicine.

"I find it all fascinating," Beverly told her.

"Well it is not as advanced as your medical center here," Batra complimented looking around at the equipment that surrounded her.

"Dr. Crusher," a nurse called emerging from a nearby room.

There was a cry of pain from the other side of the door and Batra jumped.

"Nothing to be worried about," Beverly assured her. "Ensign Ellenby is in labor."

"Babies are born here?" Batra almost marveled.

"A few times a year," Beverly commented, leaving the two women and heading into the labor room.

Batra shook her head. "I must say, Deanna. The impression that the militia gives of other worlds and what Star Fleet is like… It could not be more wrong."

"I think people often use images to deceive," Deanna told her. "Even in our culture."

Beverly was bustling with activity as she emerged from the room. "Get her prepped," she told the nurse.

Beverly turned quickly to the two women she had left behind. "There's been a bit of a complication," she told them. "Her cord is prolapsing. We must remove the baby, now."

"I must say that cesarean surgeries were always my very favorite kind," Batra said, almost dreamily.

Deanna watched a smile ease across Beverly's face.

"In that case, would you care to assist me?" Beverly asked.

Batra lit up at the suggestion. "Could I?" she asked puzzled.

"I don't see why not. It's my sickbay and I'm sure Ensign Ellenby won't mind. Come on," she motioned for Batra to join her.

"Call me," Deanna called after them. "When you're done…being doctors." She wasn't even sure they had heard the end of her comment as Batra bound off, remarkably similar to her daughter, to assist in her first medical procedure in over three years.

….

Will watched from a distance as Deanna spent every waking moment with Batra and her daughter over the coming days. When Shaule was off at school, Deanna and Batra spent huddled hours talking and working on their individual speeches, and educating Batra to the political environment she would be entering. Deanna had been in close contact with Ambassador Greer, who had been more than pleasantly surprised by the news that Batra would be joining them on Ura 5.

All three of them would address the main assembly on first full day of the conference, followed by separate addressed to different committees in the following days. At the end, there would be a large reception, which the entire Enterprise staff was invited to attend. Hopefully, by then, there would be an agreement to be presented and signed at the final ceremony the next morning. The whole thing would last six days, and by the looks of the itineraries he saw, it would be a whirlwind. Though he didn't know if it would be any better or worse than the last four and a half days, where he and Deanna hadn't managed more than a passing hello.

Will and Geordi talked as they walked from the main Engineering bay. The ship was running fine, but Will had done the crew evaluations without his better, or in this case, more compassionate half. He was always used to having Deanna's input, sometimes even to just temper the opinions expressed by someone's frustrated commanding officer.

"I'm not saying he's not a problem," Geordi continued as they talked. "It's just that I might have been a little harsh when I wrote up my report. I swear, the kid has days I want to wring his neck and then other days he's in there workin' his tail off, on the top of his game. I don't know what to make of it," Geordi said with a shrug. "But maybe the evaluation is a little harsh," he admitted.

"Hey, I don't know the guy," Will told him. "I go by what you tell me. If you want to amend your report, I'll amend mine. Deal?"

Geordi nodded gratefully, "Thanks Commander. I don't like being to ogre."

Will looked back at his companion and smiled. "A little vertically challenged for an ogre, don't you think?" he said with a smirk.

"You're right," Geordi said as they rounded the corner. "You make a much better ogre than I do," he bit back without missing a beat.

"Thanks," Will said with a chuckle. As they entered the corridor in front of them, they saw Deanna Troi walking in their direction.

"Hi," she said a bit breathlessly, as if she had been hurrying to catch up. "I managed to run into you!"

"Have you been trying to?" Will asked, a bit puzzled.

Deanna ignored his question and greeted Geordi with a smile. "Where are you two off to?" she asked.

"Senior Staff meeting in ten minutes," Geordi answered. "So how much longer until you're back to the grindstone?"

Deanna smiled warmly at her friend. "Soon," she assured him.

"Good," both men said in unison.

Deanna turned her attention to Will. "Could I speak to you for a minute before you go?" she asked.

"Is everything alright?" Will was concerned.

But Deanna nodded. "Fine. I just need a minute or two, I promise."

Will paused to consider it.

"It's okay, Commander. I'll go on ahead," he offered. "I'll leave you two alone. I know when I'm not wanted," he said with a teasing smile at Deanna before he stepped towards the lift and he was gone.

"What's going on?" Will asked cautiously.

"It's nothing, really," Deanna tried to sooth his growing concerns. "I finished my speech last night," she told him.

Will looked around at the empty corridors that surrounded them. "I don't really have time for you to practice it right now."

"I can practice on my own, thank you," she replied smartly. Then she offered him the PADD in her hand. "I want you to read it."

Will took the PADD from her and gave a small shrug. "For content? Grammatical…stuff like that?"

"No," she told him slowly. "I just want you to read it."

This only puzzled Will more. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I have to tell them what happened to me, and I'm pretty brutally honest in places." Deanna reached out and put her hand lightly on his chest. "I'm nervous, Will. I need to know you'll be there, supporting me, not shocked or saddened by what you hear. Please promise me you'll read it?"

Will studied her face for a while, her ever so slightly furrowed brow, the almost pleading way her lips pouted, waiting expectantly for his response. "I promise," he told her simply.

Deanna stretched to her toes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Will," she whispered, then turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the corridor staring uneasily at the PADD in his hand.

Will tried not to think about it, as he went about his day, meeting with the senior staff and finishing his bridge shift, still he kept it close to him. It didn't seem right to leave it out in the open, something that was clearly so personal, as if it were a journal entry rather than a speech Deanna was preparing to give to hundreds of people.

By early evening, as he sat in his quarters, he realized that he had avoided it as long as was at all reasonable. With a deep sigh, he sank into his favorite chair and began to read.

Deanna began by introducing herself, her various experiences. Then her words began to describe the mission to Galia Prime at the height of the militia's coup. Will understood that the purpose of the speech was to draw people in, to make them identify with not only her, but the people of this planet, but he found that he was still unprepared to hear her express her feelings on what it was like to awake in a dark cavern, mud in her face as men shouted and pawed at her. The terror he had felt from her as they danced the week before was merely a glimmer of the fear and despair she had felt as she was physically and emotionally assaulted.

Will read until he could not bear anymore. He put the PADD down on the table next to him, keenly aware, now, why it was so important to Deanna that he read the speech ahead of time. Tears of frustration, of his own pain ran down his face, yet he was almost unaware of them. He got up and walked restlessly around his quarters for a moment, trying to compose his thoughts and feelings, and then took another deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, as she had taught him as he mentally pushed the pictures that her words had created in his mind away. It wasn't anything he hadn't imagined a hundred times since, but before, he had always had the benefit of doubt. Maybe it wasn't as bad as he pictured. Maybe she hadn't been as terrorized as he thought. Maybe, if she was truly lucky, she didn't remember it, at least not in as much detail as she once had. But the images her words conjured were clear. It was her intent for them to shock, and she had accomplished that perfectly.

_But at what cost to her? _Will asked himself as he picked up the PADD and finished reading.

….

Deanna sat with Batra and Shaule enjoying a simple dinner in Ten forward. Shaule was fascinated by the stars around them, so they sat near the windows, for her benefit.

Both Deanna and Batra had finished their speeches. All that was left to do was wait for the conference.

Shaule was rattling on about something that they had learned in school that day, as she gazed out at the stars, captured by the vastness of space that surrounded her. Deanna smiled vaguely. Shaule reminded her, in so many ways, of herself at that age. At times painfully shy, but when she was comfortable, she was a bit of a chatterbox. Deanna could see how she was tied to her culture, wanting to honor her planet's past as well as the traditions her parents held dear, but she was also fascinated by the differences, the knowledge and experiences other ways of life had to offer. Slowly Deanna's smile faded as she remembered her own inner conflict for so many years, being torn between the life she was supposed to lead and the life she wanted.

And all the while, Deanna played the words of the speech over and over again in her mind, almost like a lulling background song, hoping that the repetitiveness would numb her to the words. They had been buzzing through her head all day, and while the repetitive action did numb at the sting of the words, she was afraid it made her a very inattentive dinner guest.

"Mind if I join you?" Will asked as he approached the table.

Deanna almost jumped, completely missing his arrival, but his calm washed over her and took the last bit of her own worry away.

"Of course you may, Commander," Batra offered. "Have you eaten? We were just finishing up."

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you," he told them. He didn't want to say that he still felt slightly ill if he let the images from the speech flow back into his mind and keeping them at bay was requiring a great deal of mental discipline.

And that was exactly what Deanna was sensing from him as he took a seat, a distinct disciplined calm. She knew that he must have read the speech and she knew him well enough to know what his mind would do with her words. That is why she had to have him, especially, read it before hand. But this mental discipline he was using, was it to protect her from his emotions or was he simply protecting himself.

"So, Shaule, how have you been enjoying the last few days of school?" Will asked her.

The young girl smiled brightly back at him. "I like the math – calculating areas of space! The teacher said that she would send me with work to do while we are on Ura 5!"

Will's eyebrows arched with surprise. "Really? And you'd like that?"

"Very much," Shaule nodded.

"Well, excellent," he resolved as he thought of how extra work while visiting a new planet would have been his worst nightmare at her age, maybe at any age.

The group chatted for a while, before Batra excused herself and her daughter. "It is growing late and we must be ready to depart when we reach Ura 5 tomorrow morning," she told them.

"So you will not be staying on the Enterprise?" Will asked.

Batra gave a quick look to Deanna and Deanna sat forward to speak. "We actually thought it would be better to stay on the planet," she told him cautiously, hoping that she wouldn't disappoint him. "It's just easier that way."

"Deanna said she would stay with us, and we have reserved a suite with two big rooms and living areas and it's overlooking the river!" Shaule hurriedly exclaimed.

Will tried to hide his disappointment at learning that Deanna would be leaving the ship for the conference. Not that they had managed much time together in the past few days, but even a quick hello was better than nothing. And he didn't know that he liked the idea of her being alone when she was exposing so much of herself to strangers, leaving her vulnerable.

"Wow. That sounds great," Will told the happy girl. "I hear that Ura 5 is very pretty, tropical even. Much different from what I saw of Galia Prime."

"Deanna says it's a lot like her planet, with jungles and waterfalls!" Shaule told him.

Will nodded his agreement. "That's what I hear."

"You've never been there?" Shaule asked as if she couldn't believe that there was a planet Will hadn't visited.

"No," Will told her. "I haven't ever had any reason to."

"Then you should come with us!"

Will and Deanna locked eyes for a brief moment. He could have sworn he saw her smile, just for a moment, before she purposefully frowned. Batra shook her head slightly at her daughter, just as she had on the planet when Shaule was peppering Deanna with questions.

"I wish I could, Shaule, but I can't. I have responsibilities here on the Enterprise. But I promise I'll come down to visit one evening when your mother and Deanna aren't too busy…if that is okay with you both?" he asked Batra and Deanna.

"Commander, we would be delighted to see you," Batra told him. "Now, we will be returning to our quarters," she said almost shooing Shaule away. "Good night, Commander, Deanna."

Will and Deanna bade them goodnight as they walked away from the table and out of the lounge. For a moment, they sat in silence. Will watched the stars, but Deanna watched Will, struggling through the barriers of his own creation to try to get a better feel for him.

"We'll be fine, Will," she told him, sensing his concern.

Will nodded vaguely in return.

"The conference has thorough security in place. Worf's already looked into it. If he feels it's safe, you should…"

"I'm sure you'll be well protected," Will told her quietly.

Deanna studied him a while longer, letting his concern wash over her and trying to piece the fragmented thoughts together. She realized, then, that the speech was the source of his fear.

"You read it," she said matter of factly.

Will looked away from the open starry sky, into the pools of black that were Deanna's large eyes, wide and ever hopeful. He nodded, hoping he looked encouraging, rather than concerned.

"It upset you."

"No," he answered quickly, but realized that was not the honest answer and that she would certainly know that as well. "Well, yes. But wasn't that the point? Don't you want them to be upset? So upset that they are willing to take action?"

"I suppose," Deanna answered calmly. "But that's not what you're feeling."

"I think the speech accomplishes its purpose with great poise. I think it is beautifully written." That was the response he had practiced in his quarters before he left to find her, carefully picking words that he believed whole-heartedly.

"But…"

Will shook his head in confusion. "No buts."

Deanna cocked her head to one side her hair falling over her shoulder. She wasn't going to let it go. "I know that what happened to me upsets you. But why are you feeling so concerned for me? Do you not think I'm capable of doing this?"

"I think you are more than capable," he assured her.

"Then what is it?" she asked him. It was an honest, diligent, question.

"I know you want to help them, Deanna, and I think that is admirable. But at what cost to yourself? I saw the look in your eyes in the transporter room when you were going back there. I saw how scared you were."

Deanna opened her mouth to protest, but Will continued on.

"And I know why you are saying what you are in that speech, but…" he shook his head. "What's that gonna do to you, mentally? And then you won't even have your friends around you for support. You'll be alone on this foreign planet…"

"I'll be far from alone," Deanna contradicted.

But Will only seemed more bothered her response. "You know what I'm saying," he told her. "Deanna, three months ago I was picking your body up off the floor. I don't…I don't want to lose you to this."

Deanna lifted her hand and touched it to his furrowed brow. She smiled gently at him, hoping she could somehow convey her emotions to him. "You won't lose me," she told him softly. Deanna took his hand and held it tightly. "This is my truth Will. It's my freedom. When I hid the pain, that's when I was lost."

Deanna made Will look at her, moving her head until she was in his line of sight. When their eyes locked there was a moment of truth that shot through them and when she knew he could sense her ease, she smiled. "As long as you're there to support me, nothing else will bother me. The more emotional their reaction, the more good I can do. I just didn't want my words to cause you pain. I love you."

Will sighed with relief, as if it were the first deep breath he had managed since he began to read her speech. "You know I love you," he smiled.

The kiss Deanna placed Will's cheek lingered, just for a moment, before she pulled away and sighed. "I need to go pack as well," she told him. "Will you come see us off tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he whispered, then kissed her forehead. "Good night Deanna."

"Thank you," she told him softly.

"For?"

Deanna shrugged slightly. "All of it. Good night, Imzadi."

….

The senior staff mulled around the observation lounge after their staff meeting. Some routine maintenance was being done while they were planning to be in orbit around Ura 5 for several days. It was nothing extraordinary, and it left the atmosphere almost casual. Geordi leaned back on the edge of the table as he spoke to Dr. Crusher and Data.

"I don't know, Data. Maybe she doesn't even want us there," he told them.

"I disagree," Beverly told them. "I think she is our friend and we need to show her our support."

Geordi just shook his head. "Hey, what about you, Commander?"

Will looked up from the forms he was still reviewing. "What?" he asked.

"The conference. Deanna's presentation?"

Deanna and Batra had left the ship shortly after their arrival at Ura 5. They said they wanted to get settled and have plenty of time to meet with Ambassador Greer before their presentation the next morning.

"What about it?" Will asked.

"Are _you_ going to the presentation?" Geordi asked.

Will nodded. "Yeah, of course."

Geordi looked discouraged. "What about you, Captain?"

Captain Picard put down the PADD in his hand and looked around a bit awkwardly at his senior staff. "I …ah…" he rubbed his scalp uncomfortably. "I wasn't specifically invited."

Beverly Crusher rolled her eyes. "What a crock," she mumbled.

Her response caught the entire rooms attention. The captain's eyebrows shot up at the attach. "I beg your pardon?" he asked credulously.

"None of us got an engraved invitation. She said we should all come. I think she assumed we would all be there, and without her going around asking each one of us to show her our support!"

The captain simply looked back at her stunned. He should have known that she would call his bluff.

"This is what friends do!" Beverly told them all, lecturing them as if they were nothing more than a bunch of badly behaved boys.

"It's not that I don't support her, Doc. Really. It's just that…" Geordi struggled to come up with the right words. "I don't want to make it harder than it is already. I mean, I know she's there to tell them what happened to her. I'm just not sure if I were her, that I'd want my friends listening."

"She's going to be telling hundreds of people," Beverly remarked. "You think that _us _being there will make her uncomfortable?" Beverly looked back and forth between the men in the room. "Is this about her being uncomfortable or _you_ being uncomfortable?"

Geordi shrugged. "Maybe us being uncomfortable will make her uncomfortable," he offered.

"That reaching a bit, don't you think?"Beverly asked. "I think you're afraid," she pronounced on the group as a whole. "I think you're all afraid of whatever it is she's going to say."

"Well…yeah," Geordi admitted. "It's not like any of us know what she's written."

Will made a small face as he looked back at the reports in front of him, but Geordi didn't miss the expression.

"Did she tell you what she was saying?" he asked.

Will looked around at the rest of the group. Finally he shrugged a bit. "Yeah, I read it." he admitted.

"And?" Geordi and Beverly asked together.

Will thought about how to respond for a moment. His reaction hadn't been easy. How would the rest of them handle it? "Well, it's not all rainbows and unicorns," he admitted, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, I, for one, am going," Beverly announced. "She's my friend and I want to be there to support her."

"As am I," Worf broke in, form his place at the end of the table. The rest of the group looked at him, a bit surprised.

"You're not uncomfortable with what she might say?" Geordi asked.

Worf stood from his chair, solemnly. "Whether or not I am uncomfortable is irrelevant. And besides, I seriously doubt she would say anything to them that would be worse than what I have already imagined."

"I'm with Worf," Will chimed in, gathering his things as he stood.

Geordi, Data and the captain remained, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Do what you want," Will told them. "She won't hold it against you."

The captain nodded briefly, while Geordi looked back down at the table as if he had been guilted by his colleagues.

With a small shrug, Will headed for the door, the doctor and Worf heading out the other.

"Commander," Data called from behind him.

Will stopped and turned back. "Yes, Data?"

"Is it my understanding, then, that you believe Counselor Troi would want us there, regardless of the fact that we may show discomfort at her words?"

Will sighed a moment as he collected his thoughts. He looked up from his feet into the concerned eyes of his friend. "Data, what happened to Deanna was a horrible thing. I don't think she would expect any of us to be comfortable with it. But not going, that says you're uncomfortable with _her,_ and that's something very different. She didn't do anything wrong. She doesn't deserve to be treated like she did. She is trying to do a good thing here."

"And yet, you told the captain and Geordi not to come if they did not want to, that Counselor Troi would not… 'hold it against them'."

"They shouldn't do what they don't want to do," Will told him. "I can't make them go. Doctor Crusher shouldn't try. Look, Data." Will said pulling him aside, as an ensign passed them in the corridor on her way to the bridge. "If you want to come, come. If you don't, don't."

"I have been trying to support Counselor Troi in her recovery all along," Data said looking puzzled. "Would you say that this is a step on that journey?"

Will smiled slightly at his friend, as he patted his shoulder. "Yeah, Data. I think it's a big step. Maybe even the last big step."

Data looked back at Commander Riker curiously for a moment, before he made his decision. "I would appreciate if I could accompany you to the conference, Sir."

Will smiled. "You got it Data. I'm leaving at 08:00, sharp." With that, Will stepped off to the lift and headed home for the night.

….

The next morning, he grabbed some breakfast and ate as he looked down at the planet below. He wondered what Deanna was doing right now. Was she nervous? He had to admit, he was a bit. Was she eating some breakfast? He hoped she would at least attempt it.

The chime on his door rang as he cleared his plate. "Come in," he called.

The door opened and Beverly and Worf stood waiting for him. "We thought we'd pick you up on the way," Beverly told him.

"On the way?" Will asked, realizing that his quarters were not, in any route, on the way to the transporter room for either of them.

Neither of them responded, so Will let it go, grabbing for his communicator, and with one more glance out the window to the planet where Deanna was; he headed off with his friends. The trio made their way through the corridors together, none of them really talking. When the door to the transporter room opened, they all came to an abrupt stop.

"Captain," Will said, a bit surprised to find his commanding officer pacing the room.

"You're late," was the captain's only response. Will looked to Beverly and saw she was smiling. Even the captain's rough manner couldn't hide his nerves. He was highly uncomfortable, but as Worf had said, his discomfort was irrelevant. They all understood.

"Shall we go?" the captain asked, as if he were irritated.

Will looked over his shoulder out the door. "Ah, Data said he was coming," he told them.

"It's not like Data to be late," Beverly commented. "Maybe he changed his mind."

Captain Picard tapped his communicator. "Picard to Mr. Data."

"Yes, Captain?"

The captain stood on the transporter pad, looking anxious. "Commander, your present location?"

"We are almost there, Sir. I apologize for our tardiness."

"Our?" Will asked looking around at the others.

Before anyone could answer Data rounded the corner, and next to him, Geordi Laforge. Geordi looked slightly sheepish, but no one said a thing as the entire group took their places on the transporter pad.

"Whenever you're ready, Lieutenant," the captain called to the junior lieutenant who stood behind the transporter controls.

"Aye, Sir."

And in an instant, the Enterprise was gone and the six of them stood just on the outskirts of a bustling conference hall.

People were everywhere, a great blend of species were mingling and meandering into the main hall where there was a stage and a podium.

It took a moment for the group to get their bearings. "I think we had better find some seats," the captain told them and he moved off towards the stage, the rest of the group in tow. There were several people who greeted them along the way, but the captain didn't stray, for too long, from his mission of finding seating.

Will kept an eye out for Deanna, but didn't see her, either in the group of people on the stage or in the surrounding crowds.

"Captain," a man called and Will turned, recognizing the voice of the Galian ambassador.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," Ambassador Greer said as he walked of the stage and made his way to the row the captain had chosen.

"Yes, Ambassador. You look well," the captain said politely. "You remember my senior staff," he said gesturing down the row.

"Yes, of course. Hello," the ambassador addressed them all. Then he turned his attention to Commander Riker. "So, Commander, you can see I kept my word."

"Glad to see it, Ambassador," Will said with a smile.

"I hear you are quite the poker player, Commander," the ambassador said with a lopsided grin.

"Oh, really? Where did you hear that?"

The ambassador glanced back at the stage. "Let's say a little birdy told me. She also said I was foolish to try to call your bluff."

The two men smiled at one another.

"You played me, Commander."

"Not at all. I kept my word and you kept yours. A very amicable ending, I think." Will glanced over the stage again. "You wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of that little birdy, do you?" Will asked hopefully.

Suddenly the smile on the ambassador's face was gone. "She is… a…" he glanced back at the stage again. "She seemed to be preparing when I saw her last. I believe that last minute nerves have reached both of my speaking companions."

The group looked at one another anxiously. They all doubted that this was a simple case of stage fright for either of the woman who would be addressing the conference.

The hall was filling up fast.

"Is she alright?" Will asked.

"She was…meditating." The ambassador sounded far from sure of himself.

Just then, another woman on the stage caught Will's attention. Batra was making her way through the group on the stage bowing slightly and greeting each member of the delegations. She was wearing a simple black dress, her hair pulled away from her face slightly. She was smiling, but Will could see the tense posture in her arms and shoulders. When she caught sight of him and his group, a genuine smile crossed her face and she began to make her way across the stage toward them.

"Captain, Commander," she greeted the two men on the end of the row. "I am glad to see that you are here."

"Hello Batra," the captain greeted her. "Are you feeling ready?"

Batra took a quick glance around the almost full hall and took a long deep breath. "What does ready feel like?" she asked.

"A little queasy, but determined," Will told her with a smile.

Batra responded with a weak smile. "Well, in that case, yes. Very much so."

The captain nodded. "Good. We wish you well, and we are all here to offer our support."

Batra took the captain's hand as she spoke. "Thank you. All of you."

"Batra, where is Deanna?" Will asked.

Again Batra's smile faded. "She's preparing," she told him.

Now Will was beginning to get worried. As he looked at his friends, he realized he wasn't alone.

"Could you take me to her?" he asked.

"She said she just needed a moment," Batra told him. "I'm sure she'll be out shortly."

"Is she okay?" Will asked.

"I don't think she slept last night. She seemed…" Batra shook off whatever it was she was about to say. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

The group on the stage was beginning to take their seats, as the time for the presentations drew near.

Then out from the back of the stage, Deanna appeared. She wore a knee length, light lavender dress. It was simple and soft. Her hair was back and she was smiling, weakly, but smiling. Will could see more. Her eyes were shining, and her eye makeup was smudged ever so slightly. And the tip of her nose was just a bit too red. She had been crying. A good outlet of emotion, he hoped.

"See," Batra told them glancing in Deanna's direction. "Thank you for coming," she told them as she turned to make her way back onto the stage.

Deanna spoke to no one, only politely smiled as she headed to her seat. As she sat, she looked over to meet Will's expectant gaze. She smiled down at him, and he gave her a small wave. Then she looked at the rest of the row, and Will looked with her. Beverly stood next to him, smiling determinedly at her friend, then it was Data and Geordi who gave her a nod and a small thumbs up, and Worf on the end, more stoic then the rest, but he nodded his head to her, to show his support. Deanna closed her eyes for a moment, as if she were drinking them in, then opened them again and smiled at the group. The one person she hadn't yet looked to was her captain, who stood at the end of the isle.

The captain stood looking almost hesitant as Deanna studied him. Something in Deanna's eyes was hopeful, almost pleading.

Finally the captain summoned his courage, and looked Deanna square in the eye. His face dissolved into a soft, kind smile. It was a smile of understanding and he gave her a small nod. There was something in his eyes, it looked like pride as he urged her on, and Deanna's face softened and she smiled back.

In that moment, everyone around them began to sit and the senior staff of the Enterprise took their seats as well.

The beginning of the conference was formal, as items that interested no one in their group were listed off. Then the presenter turned to the three speakers behind them. The applause for the Galian Ambassador's introduction was plentiful and it seemed to reassure Will that the audience that they would address was at least receptive.

Ambassador Greer spoke for several minutes about his time on Galia Prime. There were moments, when he spoke of his staff members that were killed in the early moments of the coup, where he seemed to pause as he choked back his emotions.

Will couldn't help but glance around the room every so often, gauging the reaction of the crowd around them. Most seemed sympathetic. Some seemed to find the whole situation at least unfortunate, if nothing more.

When he finished, the hall filled with applause. Then, after the crowed settled, he spoke again.

"I thank you all for your kind support. I would now like to turn the time over to a woman who did more than her duty in trying to rescue me and the other members of my staff. She risked her own life and well being. And she is the reason we are here discussing this today. The more time I have been able to spend with her, the more I admire her courage and vast array of life experience that have brought us to this point. I feel very lucky to be able, now, to consider her a friend." When he introduced Deanna, the hall again broke into applause. But, in spite of the sounds of support, Will felt his own stomach sink. He tried to project calm strength to her, but felt it was a loosing battle. Maybe he would be able to be nervous enough for the both of them.

As Deanna stepped to the podium, she looked to be the picture of grace and ease, and Will wondered, for a moment, what that illusion was costing her.

Deanna began her speech, word for word what Will had read in his quarters. Knowing what to expect took away some of the pain of the words, but he watched closely as their friends each faltered, even if just for a moment.

Geordi was the first to look down at his hands, Beverly wiped sporadically at tears in her eyes. Worf's gaze drifted to other objects on the stage, anything but to watch Deanna's mouth releasing the horrible words of what happened to her for six days six months before.

There were two, however, who never looked away. Data took it in, as if it were a warp engine status report, though Will noticed that his brow furrowed occasionally as he struggled to understand the logic of an event or perhaps consulted the vast amounts of research he had done on sexual assaults.

The other was Jean-Luc Picard. In the eighteen minutes of Deanna's speech, Will felt a renewed sense of pride in his captain. It didn't take an empath to see that he was ill at ease, or that he found the words he was hearing almost unbearably painful. But he never looked away. He closed his eyes once, in an effort to contain his emotions. His jaw line tightened to the point of a grimace, but whenever there was any possibility of him being within Deanna's line of sight, his attention was undivided and his expression unconflicted. He was there to support her, no matter what she told them, and when it was over, he was the first to rise from his chair and applaud to show his support.

As Will stood next to him, he realized something that had never really occurred to him before. Jean-Luc Picard loved her too. Maybe not in the same way, but he loved her.

Somehow it was almost easier for him to show it to her than the other members of the senior staff. It was something between them. A shared tragedy perhaps or an openness of emotion. He loved her. Will let it sink in for a moment, before he returned his attention to the speaker, where it belonged.

The nervousness in Will's gut didn't completely subside until Batra was well into her speech. It wasn't that he ceased being nervous for her, it was more than he was completely drawn in, listening to her account of the last few years on her planet, the gradual changes that went unnoticed, then were tolerated as a fringe movement and how slowly that fringe gained power and momentum by making ordinary citizens fear one another.

The room seemed to share his intrigue as Will watched delegates sitting forward in their chairs, anxious to hear more, though the end of the story was readily apparent.

The entire meeting was less than two hours long, but Will felt as if he should be calling it a day as the conference adjourned for smaller lunch meetings.

As the hall emptied, the three speakers remained, greeting guests, thanking delegates as they passed, and the senior staff members lingered as well. When most had gone, Deanna broke away from the small group that remained on the stage and made her way to her friends.

"You didn't all have to come," she told them.

Geordi gave a short glance at Dr. Crusher, but no one paid the comment much attention.

Beverly hugged her and told her she did really well, while Worf and Geordi offered their agreement.

"I think if that failed to move the majority of this group, I fear for the direction of the Federation," the captain said solemnly.

The comment earned him a smile. "Thank you Captain. For everything," Deanna told him. Regardless of how it would be accepted, she hugged him.

Captain Picard hesitated only for a second, before returning her embrace, all be it for a brief moment.

Then she turned to Will. "And?" she asked as if she knew something the others did not.

Will made a small shrug of indifference. "Six," he told her. "Maybe a seven."

The others around them looked perplexed, but they didn't know that Will had a habit of grading speeches on a scale of 1-10. It was usually something he did to entertain himself during diplomatic events.

Deanna's face fell. But before she could react, he pulled her to him and hugged her. "Are you kidding? Didn't you see them all? It was a ten. Absolutely. No doubt about it. Ten."

Deanna sighed and then smacked him hard in the arm. "Do I look like someone who needs to be teased right now?" she protested.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to move to protect himself as she continued to pummel his arm and shoulder. "I'm sorry! Save it to beat the delegates into submission," he said pushing her small fists away. "You did great. Really really well. You all did."

"I agree," Beverly told her.

"Well, it was a good first step. Now we are splitting up, meeting with the individual delegations."

"The next few days will be a marathon, not a sprint," the captain offered his advise. "Eat, get some rest. Don't let one group monopolize too much of your attention."

Deanna smiled at him gratefully as she stood tucked close to Will's body, drinking in the security of it. "Thank you Captain. I appreciate your guidance. This is…definitely a new experience for me."

"Well, you have advised me enough in my time. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Counselor," Ambassador Greer called from the stage. He nodded with his head towards the doors.

Deanna sighed and turned back to the group. "I need to go, but…thank you, all." She quickly hugged each of them. "I'll see you in a few days?"

"If you need anything, we will be remaining in orbit," the captain assured her.

"I have already discussed my concerns with the chief of security for the conference. They will be adding extra patrols in the area where you and Batra are staying," Worf told her.

Deanna smiled, though she thought it might have been a bit much. "Thank you, Worf," she offered. With another anxious look from the ambassador, Deanna reluctantly agreed. "Okay, I have to go."

Will kissed her head. "Knock 'um dead," he whispered.

"I thought I was just supposed to beat them into submission," Deanna smiled as she stepped away.

With a shrug he called after her. "Whatever works."

Deanna turned back, just as she reached the door. She seemed like a weight had been lifted from her now that the speech was over. "No offense, Commander, but I think I'll take my diplomatic advise from the Captain." With a quick wink and a smile, Deanna was out the door, on to her next meeting.

….

The days passed with little word from the planet as the conference continued. The atmosphere on the ship was almost peaceful, as each department went about the routine maintenance that had been slipping through the cracks with the constant pressure the ship had been under.

The days were bordering on boring, if such a thing existed on the Federation Flagship. The captain had been called down to the planet three times by some delegates who knew him and wanted to say hello, or even those that hadn't met him, but wanted to. Will gladly remained behind, taking command. There was only one person he wanted to see on the planet and she was far too busy to allow them to sneak away.

On the last night of the conference, a grand reception was to be held. Somehow Geordi and Worf had talked their way out of it, using excuses of how they were needed aboard ship.

Will received a note from Deanna late the night before the reception. He read it anxiously, then sighed and made a note to take care of it first thing in the morning.

When he walked into the ship's stores, the first person he saw was Beverly Crusher, wearing a red short cocktail dress, staring at herself from a three-angled mirror.

Will watched her for a moment before he spoke. "Doesn't seem very practical for Sickbay," he snickered.

Beverly Crusher visibly jumped, then grabbed for the nearest fabric in a chair near her and held it to her as if she had been naked. "Commander!" she hollered with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Will casually moved towards the computer terminal. "Shopping," he said simply.

"For _women's _clothing?" she asked grudgingly looking around the section of the ships stores where they stood.

Will gave a small shrug. "Yes."

Beverly Crusher glared at him from where she stood at the mirror, wearing one dress and holding another in front of her.

Will took her behavior to mean that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the article of clothing she was currently wearing, but he saw nothing wrong with it. He hadn't seen her in anything quite like it before, but it was far from immodest. Though he noticed in the mirror behind her that it was backless.

She wasn't speaking, just glaring at him as if he were playing some sort of a prank.

With a small grunt of amusement, Will began to explain. "Deanna sent a note last night saying that Batra and Shaule are worried they don't have anything appropriate to wear to the reception tonight and asked me to find them something."

Beverly, for the first time since he walked in, seemed to find humor in the situation. "You…alone?" she asked.

"I think I can manage."

A short laugh escaped from the doctor. "Well, good luck with that," she told him, turning away from him, and as she did so, she moved the second dress over her back.

Will shook his head as he silently laughed at her behavior. "What about you?" he asked. "07:00 seems a bit of an odd time for fashion, don't you think?"

Beverly turned back to him and dragged the second dress back to her front. "I have a full day, okay?" she said and began to turn again, moving the dress back to the back of her, then changed her mind. "It's not like I have closets of these things," she said defensively, forgetting to move the second dress with her, and for the first time, Will noticed the cut in the front was just low enough to make it down right provocative.

"I like it," he told her.

Beverly looked down at herself, suddenly moving the second dress, not quite sure what to cover. "Oh, forget it," she said and threw the second dress at him, before disappearing behind a curtain.

Will caught the dress quickly, but continued to laugh.

After a moment of listening to the doctor fume out of sight, Will called out to her. "So do you always go shopping first thing in the morning?"

"Do you always tease girls and laugh at them like a nine year old on a playground?"

"Yes, almost always," he answered perfectly solemnly. He heard Beverly grunt in frustration. "Come on, tell me what you're doing here and I'll leave you alone."

"Alright," Beverly said peeking her head out of the curtain. "I'm trying to pick out a dress for tonight."

"For the reception? You're not just gonna wear a uniform?"

Beverly hesitated for a moment, studying the first officer. She bit at her lower lip.

"Come on," he urged.

"Oh, alright. But not a word, you understand?" she asked pointing her finger at him.

"On my honor."

"The captain asked me to accompany him." There was a pause as she studied Will's face. He tried hard to keep a neutral expression. "And…I thought it would be nice," she continued, "to wear a dress. Okay?" she asked accusingly.

Will shrugged at her, wondering if he was allowed to speak. After she looked at him with an angry look he decided it was better to risk it. "Hey, it's okay by me. Wear whatever you want." It wasn't unheard of for the captain to take the doctor with him to diplomatic events, but still, the thought of it made Will grin in spite of himself.

Beverly rolled her eyes and disappeared behind the curtain again.

"I'll even help you pick something if you want," he offered.

Beverly stepped out in front of the mirror wearing a much longer, much less revealing black dress. She threw her hair back over her shoulder. "I doubt you and the captain have the same taste," she mumbled, almost before she realized what she was saying. She looked up at Will in an absolute panic, and she pointed again, warningly, at the surprised smile on his face. "Don't. Don't you dare!"

Will shrugged innocently. "I didn't say a thing."

"Good," Beverly said, going back to studying herself in the mirror.

Will watched her for a moment before turning back to the computer terminal. He began to browse through the ships catalogs.

"Hey, Beverly," he called to her as she studied herself. "What about this one?" he asked, pointing to the monitor.

"For Batra?" she asked, coming over to where he stood.

"I guess."

Beverly looked at the dress and shook her head. "She's too tall to wear that heavy a skirt. Trust me," she said bemoaning her own height. Beverly scanned through several more. "Something more like that," she suggested, and headed back towards her dressing room. "But not that color," she called. "Something more understated."

"Okay," Will moaned turning back to the computer. "What about Shaule? What do twelve year old girls wear?"

By the time that Beverly came out from the curtain dressed in her uniform, Will had selected a one shoulder black dress with a long silhouette for Batra. He showed it to Beverly and she nodded approvingly. "Shaule is easy. She could wear a bed sheet and she'd be cute with that face. Just keep it cute, not too adult."

"What about this?" he asked, showing her a black knee length dress, with a gathered bodice and flowing skirt. "It has bows on the back. How grown up can it be?" he suggested.

"I think she'll look adorable." Beverly told him smiling.

"Hey, what about you? Did you pick something?"

"I did," she said coyly.

"The black one?" he asked, mildly curious.

"No," she told him, walking away.

"Not the red one?" Will asked with a wicked grin.

"No. Not the red one," she scolded as she walked out the door.

….

Will carried the two garment bags over his shoulder as he made his way across a plaza and down a slope, green with vegetation, towards a treed area that lined the river. Tucked into the tree line were scattered buildings that served as lodging for the guests of the conference. Will followed his directions, taking a path to the left and continued down the hill. He noted the security measures he passed on the way. He knew Worf had been over them in great detail, but it still made him feel better about Deanna and their guests staying planet side.

Finally, he reached the door to a stone covered structure, simple in design. He knocked on the door, and after a brief pause, it flew open in front of him.

"Commander!" Shaule cried. She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the cottage. "You came! Did you see the river? Isn't it beautiful?"

Will opened his mouth to answer, but before a word could escape, she continued.

"If you take that path there it leads to a meadow. It's so pretty there. Mother and I have taken walks there every morning, and if you look all the way back towards the mountain there you can see Ura falls!"

"It is very beautiful," he finally managed.

"There's the big reception tonight," Shaule continued. "Mother is letting me come. We have been making maps and studying seating charts. Deanna even painted my nails! See?"

Shaule held out her had to Will, but he couldn't see that they looked any different. _Perhaps a bit more shiny_, he thought.

"They look just like Deanna's now!" she said proudly.

Will nodded encouragingly. "They look lovely," he told her.

Just then, the door to the room to their left opened and Deanna and Batra emerged.

Deanna wore her bathrobe tight around her and her wet hair was fastened loosely to itself.

"Commander!" Deanna said, smiling. "I thought I heard you."

"Yes, Shaule was just showing me her nail polish," Will said and watched the girl in front of him beam with pride. "Bold," he whispered to her sarcastically as she approached him.

Deanna rolled her eyes and ignored him.

Will took the two garment bags off his shoulder and got back to business. "Well, I come bearing gifts," he told them. "Compliments of the Enterprise and her crew." He held out the smaller bag to Shaule, who practically tore it from his hand and began yanking back the protective covering.

"And this one is for you," he said handing the remaining bag to her mother.

He heard Shaule gasp behind him and he wondered briefly it were a good gasp or a bad one. When he turned his head to take a look, he found the girl standing on the couch, holding the dress to her and spinning from side to side. _A good gasp,_ he figured.

"My goodness," Deanna said proudly.

"Oh, let me see," her mother commanded.

Suddenly Will felt unsure of his choice. "It has bows," he told her in some form of justification.

Batra studied the dress for a moment, before smiling at her daughter. "I think it is lovely, Commander. Thank you so much."

"Yes! Thank you, thank you!" Shaule called as she flung herself off the couch at him and hugged him.

"You're welcome," he said catching her, a bit stunned, then returning her to the ground.

"Let's see yours, Mother," she called.

Batra was far more subtle, as she hung the hanger from her bedroom door and quietly unwrapped the almost metallic shimmering black dress.

"I hope it's okay. It should fit pretty well. I had the computer fit it to your transporter records," Will said nervously.

"I don't know what to say," Batra said quietly. She stared at the dress for another long moment. "It is beautiful. Thank you, Commander."

"You're welcome," he said more sedately. "But I am just the messenger. Deanna was the one…"

"Deanna!" Shaule interrupted. "What about Deanna?"

Will looked to Deanna puzzled. "Was I supposed to be picking something for you?" he asked.

"Oh, no. Thank you." Deanna smiled kindly at Shaule, but waved her hand to dismiss the idea. "I have four very nice dresses laying out on my bed already. I just need to pick one."

"Do we get to vote?" Shaule asked excitedly.

"Do you want to?" Deanna asked.

"Yes!" Shaule called starting to bound off to Deanna's room on the other side of the suite.

"Me too," Will added mischievously.

Deanna turned back to him, warily. "Why?" she asked.

Will shrugged with a smile. "I was hoping I could vote for that nude colored one with the diamond straps that you wore a couple of weeks ago."

"Not an option," Deanna responded quickly.

"But I liked that one," Will whined.

Deanna looked at him sharply and arched her eyebrow. "I know you did," she told him seriously. She knew exactly how much he had liked it.

The two stared at each other, though they heard Shaule giggle sharply at their exchange.

"But if there is one universal truth," Deanna continued, ignoring the girl next to her, "it is that a woman can't get away with wearing the same gown to two events in a row." With a wiggle of her brow, Deanna turned towards her room.

"I think I'd better go. You girls have primping to do."

"No!" Shaule called. "You should stay!"

Will smiled kindly at the young girl. "Do I look ready to you?" he asked gesturing to his appearance. "I still need to get ready myself!" he told her. "And that could take _hours._"

Shaule put her hands on her hips and stepped towards the Commander. "Are you teasing me?" she asked with what he hoped was mock anger.

"You? No. Never," Will told her, giving her a light pat on the head.

"No, he's teasing me," Deanna offered with a smile. "Still it would be funnier if it didn't take him so long to style his hair." Deanna smiled evilly.

"Hey," Will protested.

"Good-bye Commander. We'll see you in a few hours," Deanna said, almost singing as she turned to her room.

"Good bye Batra, Shaule," Will offered, seeming to ignore Deanna.

As he neared the door, he glanced back and Deanna was peeking out of her door. She mouthed the words _Thank you,_ and with a motion as if he was tipping his invisible cap, Will turned and was gone.

….

Captain Picard and Commander Riker strode down the corridor of the Enterprise together on their way to the transporter room. The mood was light and Will couldn't help but notice that the captain seemed to be in a particularly good mood for a man on his way to a diplomatic function.

Will figured he'd give it a try. "I can't help but notice that you seem to be in an awfully good mood for a man on his way to a diplomatic reception," Will offered, hoping he sounded subtle.

Captain Picard looked up at his first officer, just a hint of a smile on his face. "It hasn't escaped my notice that I'm not the only one who seems pleased, Commander," he said pointedly, arching an eyebrow at Will.

Will shrugged. "I admit it. I am ever hopeful that I can steal a minute or two with Deanna." He didn't see the purpose in trying to hide it.

"Well, in another week or so, there will, hopefully, be an opportunity for more than a minute or two," the captain responded, as if it were perfectly natural.

Will burst into a smile. "Okay, I admitted mine. What's your excuse?" he asked, feeling a bit daring this evening.

"I wasn't aware I needed an excuse to be in a good mood," Jean-Luc Picard said, matter of factly, as they rounded the corner into the transporter room.

Just inside the door, Data stood chatting with Beverly Crusher. Beverly's red hair was pulled up in soft waves and her long blue dress accented her eyes. It was striking.

"Wow," Will said before he even thought about it.

The captain turned and gave him a sharp look that came across remarkably like an order to stop ogling his date.

Will grimaced a bit,

"I think that was a compliment," Beverly said stepping towards the transporter pad. "So, thank you, Commander."

Will almost said 'you're welcome' but another sharp look from his commanding officer made him keep his mouth shut.

"Whenever you're ready," the captain told the transporter chief, and a moment later the ship dissolved in front of them and was replaced by the same room where the speeches had been given on their first day. Now, however, the room glittered with lights and tables. Food was plentiful and people were mingling to the sound of an orchestra in the corner, playing traditional Uran melodies.

"Commander!" they heard a young voice call, and Will soon found Shaule moving through the crowd, swishing her dress around her as she stepped. "You are all sitting with us! This way," she said making her way back through the crowd.

When they reached the table, the rest of the group was nowhere in sight. There were seats around the tale for each of the senior staff as well as Ambassador Greer, Batra, Shaule and Deanna. But none of the rest were anywhere to be found. .

"Shaule, where is your mother?" Beverly asked kindly.

"She is…" Shaule picked up a PADD off her seat and studied it for a moment, "talking with Delegate Romaan from Gorvas II. He is a yellow mark still."

"A yellow mark?" Will asked curiously, peering over her shoulder.

"Yes. See?" Shaule showed him the PADD. "Here are all the tables in the hall and a list of what delegates are sitting where. These here with green marks have pledged a yes vote on the aid package. The yellows are undecided and the black marks are no votes."

The captain, doctor, first and second officer looked back and forth at one another, impressed.

"Did the ambassador design this?" the captain asked.

"No, I did," Shaule said simply returning to her computer program.

"By yourself?" he asked.

Shaule looked up at him innocently. "I've been working on it for three days."

"What about these diamond shaped marks?" Will asked pointing at the seating chart.

"Those are votes on the planetary blockade. We need ten planets. Right now we have the eight. But we have two strategies." Shaule moved the seating chart away and pulled up a stellar map. "We can take these ten here or these ten here," she said pointing to the map.

"Right now, these here in the center are yes votes. So we either need these two planets, but if either of them say no, we must go to the second strategy and that leaves four more planets to convince."

"What about the aid package?" Will asked.

Shaule quickly flipped back to the seating chart. "We need 51 votes. Right now we have 42. That leaves 9 more to get and 32 remaining delegations. Twelve of those are confirmed no votes. So that leaves twenty possible votes to get. They have divided the banquet into three groups. The ambassador is working to convince these here with the blue circles, Mother is working on the ones with red circles and Deanna is talking to the ones with purple circles."

"Wow," Will was impressed by the sheer organization of the offensive. He turned to the captain. "Like the political equivalent of the full court press," he told him quietly.

The captain only huffed a bit, his eyes wide.

"Here they are!" Shaule called, pointing into the crowd where Deanna and Batra approached.

Deanna was wearing a deep brown dress, that almost looked like ripples of chocolate as it wrapped around her bodice, a loose skirt flowing as she walked. Around the high waist was tied a burgundy ribbon, that matched perfectly the color of her deep lipstick, and was echoed again in her necklace that accented her neckline. A smile was plastered to her face as if it was just another accessory.

"Captain," Deanna greeted the group. "Commander. Beverly!" she called surprised to see her friend looking so elegant. "You look stunning!"

Beverly blushed slightly as the captain smiled appreciatively. With a quick hug for her friend, Deanna moved on to their table. As she turned away from the room, she grabbed her cheeks with her hands.

"Uh," Deanna groaned. "My face hurts," she told them, massaging at her own cheeks.

"My feet hurt," Batra echoed as she sat in her seat.

"Delegate Romann?" Shaule asked, adjusting her PADD in her lap.

Batra shook her head slightly.

"Yourman Tonug is promising," Deanna told them.

"A mark and a diamond!" Shaule said, seeming impressed.

"Still, he wouldn't make a firm commitment."

"So he stays yellow?" Shaule asked her.

"For the moment," Deanna answered. She sunk into her chair. "I'm taking my shoes off," she told them, reaching under the table.

The Enterprise officers made their way to sit as well, when suddenly Will realized their chairs had been laid out according to rank. First the captain, then Commander Riker, Doctor Crusher and Data, then the chair where Deanna sat rubbing her feet, Shaule tucked next to her, updating information on the PADD in her lap next to her mother. There was still one empty seat meant for the ambassador, but neither the captain nor the first officer seemed very happy with the seating arrangement.

Will decided to take matters into his own hands, pulling out his chair and offering it to the doctor, who smiled gratefully at Will as she slipped into the chair.

As Will tucked the chair into the table, he got a mixed expression of gratitude from his captain, and a bit of a warning glare. Clearly the captain was not impressed with his first officer doting on his date.

Will shrugged it off. However they got there, the captain was sitting next to his date, and Will was at least one seat closer.

Data stood between Commander Riker and where Deanna sat rubbing her foot. He watched each of them for a moment, trying to verify the appropriate response.

"Commander," he finally began. "Would you care to exchange seats?"

Both Will and Deanna smiled excitedly at him.

"Thanks, Data," he said quickly taking the seat next to Deanna before Data could change his mind. He turned his attention to Deanna. "You picked a dress," he told her.

"You combed your hair," she bantered back.

"I like it. Not as much as the other dress, but you're still beautiful."

Ambassador Greer practically waltzed to the table. "Shaule, my dear, I need you to move Delegate Warn from yellow to green," he said quickly sitting down.

"Well done, Ambassador," Deanna complimented.

"Eight to go," Batra counted.

"Unfortunately, Chancellor Ekor was unwilling to remove the permanent see saw from certain parts of his anatomy," the ambassador said, disgruntled.

"Chancellor Ekor?" Batra asked. "I was speaking to his wife yesterday. She was telling me that they have a daughter your age," she told her daughter. Batra looked thoughtful for a moment, before she acted. "Shaule, put the PADD down. I'd like someone to meet you." She was up from her chair and motioning for her daughter. "Come with me," she told her and Batra and Shaule disappeared into the crowd.

As the two disappeared, one of the delegates approached the table. 'Forgive the interruption, but Ambassador, if I could have a moment of your time?"

"Of course," the ambassador responded and walked off following the other man.

For a moment it left the Enterprise crew alone at the table.

"How are you holding up, Counselor?" the captain asked.

Deanna sighed. "The marathon has turned to a sprint to the finish," she told him. "If I smile any more, my face may break off."

The others at the table quietly chuckled.

"It would seem you are making excellent progress," Beverly offered.

"Yes, it's amazing what you can do when you don't eat or sleep for a few days," Deanna admitted, though she still seemed to be in good spirits.

"Well, I think you ought to sit still for a bit and eat some dinner," Will suggested.

Before Deanna could reply, the ambassador returned.

"Shaule needs to turn another yellow box to green. Rova Five is giving their support." He looked pleased as he took his seat. "How long until dinner is served? I'm famished."

"The meal should be served any moment, Sir," Data offered.

"That leaves seven?" Will asked.

Before too long Batra and her daughter returned to the table. Shaule immediately picked up her PADD.

"Move Rova Five to green," Ambassador Greer told the girl.

"And Chancellor Ekor," Batra reminded her.

"How did you manage that?" the ambassador asked with a startled glance.

"I asked what he would want for his daughter," Batra responded.

"That leaves six," Deanna corrected.

"Six in four hours," the ambassador reminded.

Deanna looked around at the servers who were bringing food to the tables around them. "I hope we can eat quickly. We have work to do."

The Enterprise officers watched the three adults at the table practically inhale their food. They quickly reassessed their strategy and were all off again, working the crowd trying to find the votes that would help them most.

Will watched her go. He could hardly feel disappointed. She was so close to accomplishing her goal. He wished he could do something to help. Instead he was left watching the three of them make their rounds, debating issues, making impassioned pleas to those in power who could help them.

The captain and doctor seemed not to mind being left alone at the table. Before too long there was dancing, and much to Will's surprise, Captain Picard almost immediately asked Beverly to join him on the dance floor.

Will watched them dancing. He liked seeing them like that. The captain needed a little more of that in his life, in his first officer's opinion. He tried not to let it bother him that they were so clearly enjoying each others company when Deanna was nowhere in sight and even if she were, she was too busy to talk to him. When the dance was over, the couple seemed to disappear into the crowd. Maybe they were visiting with some of the delegates; maybe they were enjoying some quiet time alone amongst the grounds of the conference center. Again, he felt a twinge of envy, but tried to push it aside as he set his focus on the only two people who remained with him at the table; Data to his right and Shaule to his left.

"You're a computer," Shaule said matter of factly to Data as they sat finishing their meal.

"I am an Android," Data corrected.

"Why were you made to resemble a human?" she asked.

"My creator was human. Do you not resemble your parents?"

"My father says I look like my mother. Do you look like your creator? I mean your face and hair? Like I look like my mother?"

"I believe that I do," Data answered simply.

Will thought it might be a good time to change the subject.

"So, Shaule. You've been keeping yourself pretty busy during the conference with the school work and charts?" Will pointed to the PADD that sat on her lap.

Shaule nodded proudly. "Mother said I could show my charts and graphs to the teachers on the Enterprise while we travel home." There was almost sadness in her voice that Will was unaccustomed to.

"Don't you want to come back to class on the Enterprise?" he asked her.

"Oh, yes. But it will only be for a few days and then we will return home, and I'm not allowed to go to school there." Shaule's eyes were down in her lap, a lonely expression on her face.

"May I ask you a question?" Data asked her.

Shaule nodded.

"I have heard children on the Enterprise say that they did not wish to go to school. You do not share that feeling?"

Shaule looked at Data as if he had just taken off his own head. She shook her head slightly and then launched into a discourse of why she wanted to be able to learn, and to be with more children her own age. When Data told her that he had not attended a traditional school either, Shaule seemed fascinated. The two began to ask questions back and forth, occasionally stopping long enough to let the other answer. After a few minutes of listening to them, Will realized that it was possible that he was sitting with the two most inquisitive people he had ever known.

Even still, their semi conversation couldn't hold his interest and he began to people watch instead. Deanna had reappeared and was sitting next to an older man. A glance at Shaule's chart showed Will that it was Commodore Haan from Dorona, at least if he were in the correct seat. A yellow mark was next to his name on the PADD and Will could see by Deanna's body language that she was hard at work.

He watched her closely as she spoke then listened. Will couldn't hear the conversation, or make out many words from lip reading from this distance, but the body language of the two was fascinating.

Will didn't have to be empathic to see that the older man found Deanna attractive, not in an overt overbearing way, but simply appreciated the company of a beautiful woman.

Deanna seemed to pick up that vibe as well, as Will watched the conversation go on, and she reached out and touched his arm, then his shoulder. Every time it seemed his attention would begin to wander or as if he might be ending the conversation, she would simply touch him and he would be enraptured again.

Will watched traits he hadn't seen for months, the casual way she would flip her hair, or tilt her head as she listened, the way she leaned towards him when she spoke. It astounded him that she was flirting to get a vote. It was harmless, in any case, and he wondered if the commodore was even aware of the subtle gestures, but Will Riker could read those signals anywhere. The more he watched, the more entertaining it became, until with one final flip of her hair over her shoulder, Will lost his composure and broke out into a laugh.

The two remaining table guests stopped their conversation and stared at him, and Will immediately stifled his laughter. "Sorry," he muttered quietly, taking a drink.

"Did I say something amusing, Commander?" Data asked puzzled.

The truth was, Will had no idea what Data had been saying, but he was willing to bet that it was not intended to be humorous. "No, Data. I just saw something…" he thought about explaining it to them, but he didn't really _want _to explain it to the twelve year old to his left and even if he _did _explain it to Data, he doubted he would understand or at least find the humor in it. "It was nothing. Sorry."

"So you can just take off your arm? It doesn't even hurt?" Shaule picked up the conversation where it had apparently left off and the two of them returned to their banter while Will watched Deanna bid the Commodore a friendly good bye and move on to another table nearby.

He wondered if he should feel jealous, but somehow he couldn't seem to muster the emotion. Oddly, the one thing he felt for sure was relieved, relieved to see Deanna so at ease, so much like the Deanna he knew, the Deanna he was afraid he had lost.

After a while, a few guests made their way to their table, greeting Will as the representative from the Enterprise, as the Captain was still nowhere in sight. Will had a passing thought about being worried about the relative disappearance of his captain, but decided that he would rather worry about his whereabouts than to go looking for the captain and his date and find them in a situation that would embarrass them all. So instead, he graciously greeted guests and made excuses for his captain's absence.

Will had been visiting with the Emborian delegation for a few minutes near the balcony and when he returned to the table he found Data engrossed in conversation with one of the Huduuh delegates. The captain and doctor were still nowhere in sight, nor could he see Deanna or Batra or the Galian ambassador in the mulling crowd. What he could see was a twelve-year-old girl curled in her chair, her head resting on her arms on the table. It was nearing midnight, and Shaule looked exhausted. Her PADD was still clutched in her hand, but her eyes were closed, and her breaths were slow and even.

Will sank into the chair next to her and watched her sleep for another moment. He wondered what the room would think if he followed suite. It struck him as unjust occasionally, the things kids could get away with that adults couldn't. Soon Data joined him sitting at the table and after a few more moments, the captain and doctor wandered back towards the table as well, talking with Deanna and Batra on their way.

Will wondered if he would ever get to hear what the captain and doctor had spent most of the evening doing.

"Oh, no," Batra moaned when she saw her daughter curled up at the table.

Suddenly Ambassador Greer was swiftly walking towards the table. "Batra, please, there is someone I would like you to talk to."

Batra looked torn as she looked from her sleeping daughter to the ambassador. After a moment, she turned back to the ambassador. "I'm sorry, Ambassador. I should take my daughter back to our room. It's very late."

"Batra, this is Delegate Torgan. His vote is for the aid package as well as the planetary blockade," the ambassador urged.

"I can take Shaule home," Deanna offered.

The ambassador sighed. "I was hoping you could catch Ambassador Waorren. He had some questions for you."

"I'll just walk her back and hurry in," Deanna suggested.

Batra shook her head. "No, I'm uncomfortable with her staying alone. I need to go."

The ambassador looked troubled.

"I'll take her," Will offered scooting back from the table.

Batra looked surprised. "You wouldn't mind, Commander?"

"Not at all," Will admitted, realizing no matter how long he sat there, he wasn't going to be getting any time alone with Deanna. "Unless the captain objects," he offered.

The captain vaguely shook his head.

"It'll be fine," Will urged Batra. "You go on. I'll take care of her."

"Are you sure?" Deanna asked quietly.

"I can command a starship, I think I'm certainly capable of walking a twelve year old home and standing guard while she sleeps."

Batra still looked torn. "I would be very grateful, Commander. Shaule likes you very much. She will be comfortable with you there."

"Sure," Will tried to reassure her.

Batra gently stirred her daughter. "Shaule, go with Commander Riker. He will take you back to the cottage."

"Yes, Mother," Shaule said obediently, rising from her chair. She stopped briefly and handed her PADD to Data. "Here," she told him. "You can keep track of our marks."

With a bit of sleep in her step, and with a glance back at her mother as she headed off to another brief meeting, Shaule followed Will out of the hall and into the garden beyond the hall.

"Did you like the party?" Will asked as they walked.

Shaule only shrugged. She seemed overly quiet as they made their way along the lighted path that Will had walked earlier in the day to the cottage.

"It must be hard to be away from home for so long and your mother is so busy."

Shaule shrugged again.

"Are you just tired?" Will asked her. "It's after midnight."

Shaule raised her shoulders to shrug, but Will put one heavy hand on her shoulder. "I know you like to talk more than this," he told her.

"Commander Data and I were talking about school," she told him quietly as he stood watching her.

"Yeah."

"And I don't know," she shrugged again. "Commander? Can I ask you something if you promise not to tell my mother?"

"Uh oh," Will sighed. He leaned back on a fence that lined the path to the river and watched the young girl standing in front of him, swaying slightly. "I don't know that I can promise that. How about I'll try?"

Shaule frowned.

"Come on, try me," he urged her.

Shaule studied him for a while, apparently deciding if he was trustworthy. "What if…" she began tentatively. "What if I don't want to go home?'

"To the cottage?" Will asked hopefully gesturing down the path to the cottage.

"Home," Shaule said more confidently. "To Galia Prime? What if I wanted to stay on the Enterprise and go to school? I was reading a book they recommended at school, about a bell ringer in a church on Earth?"

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame?" Will asked.

"There was a gypsy," Shaule recalled. "She claimed sanctuary. Could…I claim sanctuary?"

Will thought for a long moment before he spoke. "Shaule, even if you didn't go back to Galia Prime, you couldn't just stay on the Enterprise. You would need some sort of a guardian…a family."

"You and Deanna could be my guardians," Shaule said brightly.

Will couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Ahh- Shaule, Deanna and I aren't…we aren't a family, at least not like what you would need. We…" he sighed again. It was like she was sucking the energy from him. "We've got a lot to figure out before we could be anything like that."

Will crouched down so he was on her eye level. "Shaule, I know that life at home is hard. I know it's not what you want. But that is what your parents are both fighting so hard for, to give you hope." He watched as the girl's mind churned in front of him.

"Besides, how would you really feel, not seeing your brother or father again, maybe for a very long time."

Shaule bit her lip and hung her head.

Will put an arm around her carefully. "Tough choices, huh? Not ones that someone your age should be making." He headed out again. "Come on. Let's get you home."

Reluctantly, Shaule walked on. "Commander?" she asked again.

"Yes?"

"If I go home…do I get to keep the dress?" she asked twirling from side to side.

Will felt himself laugh again. "The dress is yours to keep," he told her.

Shaule gave a little skip before darting out in front of him. "Commander, one more question."

"Let's hear it," he said following behind.

"What is a gypsy anyway?"

….

Once Shaule was safely in her room, Will settled in on the couch in the living area. He meant to find something to occupy him until Deanna and Batra had returned, but before he could even think of it, he had drifted off into a shallow sleep.

….

Deanna and Batra entered the room quietly, to not wake Shaule. But what they found was Commander Riker, leaning back on the couch, his neck kinked back, snoring slightly as he slept. Deanna shrugged her shoulders to Batra who smiled mischievously.

"It is very late," she whispered.

Deanna stepped towards the sleeping man. "Poor baby," she muttered, as she reached out and brushed her fingers through the front of his hair. Still he did not stir. Perhaps it would be more effective if she took a more direct approach.

….

Will didn't think he had fallen into a deep enough sleep to dream, but still the gentle pressure on his lips was tugging at his mind. It seemed so real… And in a moment he was awake and he opened his eyes to see Deanna standing over him, smiling.

"Deanna," he said, sitting up quickly.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi."

Batra made a small sound clearing her throat, drawing each of their attention to the fact that there was someone else in the room.

"Thank you for escorting my daughter home Commander. It was very kind of you and I am grateful."

"Did you talk with the people you needed to?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, thank you."

"Any word on the votes?" he asked.

"Not yet. Ambassador Greer is still talking with the last few stragglers," Deanna told him.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost 02:00."

"Well, I'll be sleeping. Good night Deanna, Commander," Batra said with a nod, stepping through the door to the room where her daughter already slept.

Will turned his attention back to where Deanna had settled into the couch next to him.

"You must be exhausted," he told her.

Deanna smiled peacefully. "I'm alright," she told him, with a slight sparkle in her eye.

"Yeah? You're not tired?"

"No, I am. I just missed you more." Deanna leaned into him and unlike the kiss that had woke him, which was light and gentle, this time she captured him and pulled herself onto his lap.

Will reacted to her in a fraction of a second, pulling her to him and returning her kiss as if he'd never had the privilege of kissing her ever in his life. His hands were on her shoulders holding her close to him, as she lavished his lower lip with fervent attention.

The passion that had been brewing for so long was suddenly roaring to life with amazing speed as his hands tangled into her hair, and her body pressed against him.

After what seemed like a small forever, at least enough to make up for the lack of attention earlier in the evening, Deanna finally pulled away enough to take a deep breath. "Hi," she whispered.

Will wanted to speak, but his head was still spinning. "Hi," he finally managed.

Deanna smiled at him, almost giddy at her ability to befuddle him, before she leaned in and kissed him again, greedily tasting his mouth against hers.

Will let her take charge, since he had no idea what her intentions were, at least until he was fairly sure that if he didn't get up and walk away at that moment, he wasn't going to leave at all. He sighed again as their lips parted. "I should go," he said regretfully.

Deanna practically curled up on his chest. "You don't have to," she told him. She looked deep into his eyes. "You could stay."

The offer took him aback a bit. As much as he loved the sound of what she was proposing, he couldn't help but glance to the door where Batra and Shaule were staying. That could make for an awkward moment. He had waited a long time…

"Deanna, I'd really rather not explain to a twelve year old girl what I'm doing here in the morning. On the other hand, my desire to leave before morning is really, really low."

Deanna smiled a sad but understanding smile. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could speak, there was a rapping on the door.

Will's heart sank slightly as he felt Deanna jump at the unexpected sound. It was a moment where he realized, in spite of the strength he had witnessed earlier in the evening, she still wasn't completely recovered. Maybe there was no such thing as a complete recovery.

Deanna smoothed her hair slightly as she hopped up and made her way to the door.

"Ambassador!" she called as she found Ambassador Greer on her step. "Come in."

"I was glad to see your lights still on. Is Batra awake?"

"Yes, of course," Batra called, emerging from her room. She had changed out of her ball gown and wore a dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. "Is something wrong, Ambassador?"

"Not at all. Something is very right. We have sixty votes! The aid package will pass first thing in the morning."

"Sixty?" Deanna asked, surprised.

"Confirmed yes votes, there are several more that are likely. The official vote will be tomorrow morning, but I have already spoken to Admiral Daugherty and he has authorized the first aid shipment to be delivered. It will be to Galia Prime in six days."

"Six days!" Batra cried. "I have to prepare, to make arrangements with others in our movement! And it took us five days just to get here!"

Will tried to calm the panic on Batra's face. "We'll increase speed, we can get you home in three."

"Still, we'll need to leave as soon as possible," Deanna concluded. "We'll need to miss the vote and the signing ceremony."

"I wish you could be there to see it," Ambassador Greer said sadly. "You worked so hard for it."

Batra smiled at him graciously. "I am sure, as the Federation representative of my people, you will handle the formalities with great dignity."

"What about the planetary blockade?" Will asked curiously, as he stood close to Deanna, unwilling to loose physical contact with her.

"Both Rivos and Dorn have asked to return to their home worlds and take the matter up with their respective governments. They are both Federation protectorates, and are hesitant to let Federation policies dictate to heavily on their people. They are not saying no, they just need more time."

"What about the other option?"

"We have Volt, Borrona Three and Four, and Sorta. But we are in need of three planets between Borrona Four and Sorta Prime as well as Sorta Five. It leaves us a long way to go. I still believe Rivos and Dorn are the best option, and I believe we can convince them both. But… I was hoping I could convince you to join me as I visit with their governments," he told Deanna.

Without a thought, Will's hand, that had been resting on Deanna's arm, closed around it to hold her. He had thought it was over, and now she was being asked to take off to a different part of the galaxy.

Deanna looked to Batra, who still looked overwhelmed, then to Will, and finally back to the ambassador at her door. "I'm sorry, but no, I can't," she told him. "My life has been placed on hold long enough. My place is on the Enterprise. You are a very skilled diplomat, Ambassador. I have full faith in your ability to convince these people."

"But they want to talk to you, both of you," he urged her. "Both delegations have already sent parties home to begin to talk to their governments…"

"Ambassador," Will broke in with what he hoped would be an acceptable compromise. "Both Deanna and Batra will be aboard the Enterprise for the next few days. Any and all of our recourses are at their disposal. If they could speak with them over sub-space channels…"

"Of course," Deanna offered. "We could speak to both of them, and still get Batra back before the first aid shipment arrives."

The ambassador let out a long, disappointed sigh, but finally nodded his head. "It will have to do," he told them. "I appreciate all that you have done, Counselor. And I respect your decision to return to your life."

"This is our fight now, not hers," Batra added, and the ambassador nodded.

"We would have never gotten this far without you," the ambassador told her gratefully, shaking Deanna's hand. "I would never…" He let the sentence die away, unfinished. "I owe you a great deal," he offered instead.

"Thank you, ambassador," Deanna replied.

Ambassador Greer turned his attention to Batra. "I will send the coordinates of the first deliveries to the Enterprise. Once I return to orbit, I will be in touch as we discussed."

"I look forward to it," Batra told him. "I will help as long as is necessary. But I'm sure it will only be a matter of time until a natural leader for the movement emerges."

The others looked back at her, and smiled.

"I am a surgeon," she reminded them. "A great leader will emerge."

"It would seem to me, that one already has," Ambassador Greer told her, taking her hands and kissing each palm, as was the Galian custom. "Good bye, Deanna," he said sadly. "Commander," he added.

"I'm sure we will speak soon," Deanna reminded him.

"I will make your apologies at the ceremony tomorrow." And with that, the ambassador was off again, back into the darkness of the night,

Batra looked around the cottage. "I need to pack," she told them.

"The Enterprise will need to make some preparations before leaving orbit," Will reminded them. "Why don't you get a few hours of rest?"

"I agree," Deanna said quietly. "We'll be aboard by 07:00."

"Thank you, Commander," Batra offered.

Will smiled kindly at the overwhelmed looking woman. "Well, it looks like I better get back to work," he told them both. "Goodnight Batra, Deanna," he turned and kissed Deanna on the cheek before following where the ambassador had disappeared down the dimly lit path.

"Commander," he heard Deanna call from behind him. He stopped and turned back to the cottage.

Deanna followed him hurriedly, until the light was dim enough where the darkness would obscure anyone's view. Without another word, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, running her fingers along the back of his hair as she crushed his lips to hers, wasting no time as she slipped her tongue into his mouth and the fire that had been between them just a few minutes before returned.

Will reacted in kind, gladly drinking her in, running his hands along the silken fabric of her dress, down her back, over her bottom, wishing he had never turned down the idea of staying the night with her.

As quickly as it had begun, it ended and Deanna pulled away with one more light kiss to his cheek. "Good night Will," she said slipping from his arms and turning back to the cottage. "Pleasant dreams," she called over her shoulder as he watched her disappear through the door.

Will stood perfectly still in the darkness for a moment, just trying to gain some footing in the situation. He had work to do on the Enterprise, but his mind was completely focused on the woman who had just walked away from him. "She's trying to kill me," he muttered to himself as he turned away from the cottage for the last time, and made his way up the path to the conference center where he could return home.


	30. Home 30

Disclaimer: Even after 210,000 words…I STILL don't own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

A/N: Oh, where to begin… I have been writing this story for 10 months. That is the longest I have ever spent on a writing project in my life and part of me just wanted to see if I could stick it out to the end. So for that alone, I am proud of myself. Ironically I will post the last chapter of this story exactly 1 year to the day from the day I posted my other novel length story. I hope the last year has shown some improvement in my writing skills. I have mixed emotions about it being the end. There is a 'yes! I did it!' factor and a 'thank goodness it's over' factor, and then also a little sadness.

I will miss writing these characters this way, and I will very much miss hearing from all of you. Your input has been vital to keeping me moving and writing and has really been the thing that has gotten the story to this place. I love to read what you thought in a specific place or a little something that made you laugh or touched you for some reason. That is the best thing ever. Even as I wrote a scene, I would think of what you all would think of it, and more times than not, at least one of you would give me that feedback I was hoping for. My personal favorite was when Damon Paule turned out to be married and someone sent a note saying that they knew they didn't like that guy, they just didn't know why. I was really hoping someone would tell me 'see, I knew he was no good!". (You all really didn't like him, by the way, and I didn't even mean to write him that way. It's like you are a collective group of jealous lovers. The claws came out and you all said 'don't screw this up for them!'). Reading the comments was easily as entertaining for me as the story itself.

So I owe you all a thank you from the bottom of my heart, not only for reading my work, and for continuing to read my work even through long breaks and pauses, but for your continued support and compliments. They have been very moving to me at times when I needed someone to tell me I was doing something well.

So here it is, for all of you…the last chapter. I hope it gives you everything you are hoping for. If not, I am truly sorry.

Until I write again-

M

**Chapter 30:**

The first thing Deanna saw as the transporter beam faced away was the first officer, leaning casually on the wall to the side of the transporter control panel, his arms folded sternly across his chest. He looked tired.

"You're late," he said simply as Deanna stepped from the pad, Batra and Shaule following closely behind her.

"It's 07:10!" Deanna defended them.

"You said 07:00," he told her sternly.

Deanna shrugged off his mock anger, sensing that he was very much enjoying teasing her.

"It was my fault, Commander. I apologize," Batra told him. "I needed to make one more check --" she paused when Will put his hand up, to motion for her to stop speaking. "I am not as used to packing and unpacking as you both are," she concluded quietly.

"Batra," Will smiled at her graciously. "I was only joking. Is everything alright? You're ready to depart?"

"Yes, quite." Batra and Shaule followed Will and Deanna out into the corridor.

"So did you have pleasant dreams?" Deanna asked Will quietly as the walked into the corridor. She had a glint in her eye remembering the night before.

"No, actually," Will admitted. "But to be fair, I haven't been to bed yet."

Geordi Laforge was walking towards them. He looked a bit ragged, as he greeted them. "Counselor, Ma'am," he said quickly before turning back to the first officer. "Engineering reporting in as ready, Sir. All maintenance and diagnostics have been completed and all engines are operating within normal parameters." He held a PADD out for him and Will took it and quickly looked it over.

"Geordi, you look exhausted!" Deanna exclaimed.

"Well, it's been quite a night," Geordi admitted.

"He woke you up too?" Deanna asked, a bit sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. Misery loves company."

"Well done, Commander. And in record time," Will said with a smile.

"What can I say," Geordi said with a shrug. "Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going back to bed."

"Good night, Geordi," Deanna called after him. "Thank you!"

Will quickly tapped his com badge. "Riker to Bridge. Our guests are aboard and Engineering is reporting as ready."

"Thank you Commander. We'll depart momentarily," the captain answered.

"Do we know how long it will be before we reach Galia Prime?" Batra asked Commander Riker hopefully.

"Data?" Will asked.

"We will enter orbit in two days twenty two hours and forty seven minutes."

Will made a questioning look at Batra to ask if that had answered her question. She nodded in return. "Thank you, Mr. Data. Riker out."

He turned to face the women in the corridor. "Would you like me to escort you to your quarters, or can you manage that?"

"I think we can find our way, Commander," Batra said kindly. "Assuming we are staying in the same place."

"Of course."

"In that case, you should go to bed like your friend. We can take care of ourselves."

Will shook his head. "As much as I would enjoy that, I have a bridge shift beginning in ten minutes. If you ladies will excuse me," he told them.

Deanna noticed the way he touched her shoulder as they talked and the way his hand drifted across her lower back as he passed her and made his way away from them and on down the corridor.

She hoped she hadn't actually blushed, though she could feel the slight flush to her cheeks. She shook her head to herself as the three of them all walked on their way. It was amazing, the reaction he could get from her, all by a casual touch in the middle of a corridor.

….

Will found the time to get rest in the following days, but he didn't see that Deanna or Batra were getting any. Within hours of their arrival, the first communication from the Rivorn government arrived. By the end of the day the Chancellor of Dorn and his cabinet were also in contact with the ship.

Batra and Deanna seemed to have taken up residence in the observation lounge as they continued their quest and negotiations for the planetary blockade.

The bridge kept a watch on the communications as they funneled the sub space transmittions through. By the morning of the second day Rivos had agreed, leaving the Dorn government as the last stumbling block to the plan's success.

Finally, in the afternoon of the day before they were to reach Galian Prime, the communication between Dorn and the observation lounge, that had gone on for more than three hours, finally terminated.

"Communication terminated," Worf confirmed from his Bridge station.

Will looked hopefully to his captain. "If you don't mind, Sir, I'd like to peek in, see how it's going."

Captain Picard gave a quick nod, and Will was off, making his way to the observation lounge.

"Mind if I come in?" Will asked from the door.

Deanna and Batra sat on opposite sides of the table. Batra sighed as she pushed back from the table and stretched. "Please," she offered.

"How did it go?" he asked them both.

"Well, they are taking a recess to discuss the proposal. They should get back to us before too long," Deanna told him.

"You know what that sounds like to me?"

"What?" Deanna asked skeptically.

Will pulled her chair out a bit to face him. "A lunch break."

Batra looked to the door for a moment before turning back to the two of them. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to check on Shaule while we wait."

"Isn't she in class?" Will asked.

Batra nodded. "Yes, but I'd like to check on her all the same. Please, make her eat," she said tossing a glance in Deanna's direction, before walking out the far doors of the lounge.

"Is she okay?" Will asked.

Deanna thought for a moment, letting her new friend's emotions dwell with her. "We've put a great deal of responsibility on her shoulders," Deanna told him sadly. "It seems the closer we get to her home planet, the heavier the burden becomes."

"Do you think she can handle it?" he asked concerned.

Deanna let out a long sigh and offered him a reassuring smile. "She'll be fine. Once she can put the plans into action, start distributing the aid, she'll be fine. But for the first time in a long time, she was safe here. She had nothing to fear. She didn't need to cover herself, or look over her shoulder. It must be hard to go back, to take your child back."

Will nodded solemnly. "Come on," he said, hoping to lighten the mood. "Let's get some food into you while we have the chance."

"Uhhh," Deanna moaned as Will tugged on her arm. "I'm too tired to walk to Ten Forward," she whined.

Will gave up and let Deanna sink back comfortably in the chair. "Okay, you can eat here," he told her and strode off to the opposite side of the room to the replicator. He ordered her a simple salad and glass of water and brought them back to the table.

Deanna had put her head down in front of her and was either almost falling asleep or was meditating.

"Dea," he called.

Her head snapped up and she smiled somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry," she mumbled as he put the food down in front of her and pulled the chair next to her a bit closer so they could sit and visit for a while.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded as she stuffed a bite of food into her mouth. "The Rivon's were on opposite time from us, so we were up most of the night finishing up the agreement. Ambassador Greer is on his way there now to sign it."

"Just one more."

Deanna nodded. "Just one more," she repeated with a sigh.

"And you will have accomplished what you set out to do. You're almost there, Deanna."

Deanna just picked at the salad in front of her.

"Dea?"

She looked up at him and tried to smile, a tired smile. "I know. I should be proud of myself."

"Aren't you?" he asked puzzled.

Deanna shrugged. "I don't know. I'm worried about Batra, and her family. We've put them at so much risk."

"This was their choice. They were fighting before we ever met them."

Deanna nodded gratefully. "True."

"You've been working hard on it for quite a while. I understand feeling the let down at the end."

Deanna's smile widened, relieved that he seemed to understand.

"I am happy," she told him. "I'll be even happier when this thing with the Dornans is decided, one way or the other."

"And tomorrow, when I take Batra and Shaule home --" Will asked. "Then is it over? For you at least?"

Deanna nodded gratefully as she took another bite. "I can't fight the battle for them," she said as she hastily chewed. "This is their planet, their culture. I have to let it go now."

"And then what?" he asked.

"For me?" she asked a bit surprised. She gestured around her. "Life," she said simply.

"And how do you feel about that?" he asked, cautiously.

"Going back to work?" Deanna clarified. Will slowly nodded. "I don't know. In some ways, the idea of listening to someone else's problems kind of seems like a relief. That must sound very strange," she said shaking her head.

"I don't know. I guess it would make sense that if you can conquer this, then everything else is downhill from here." He watched her for another moment. "So I guess the real question is -- do you think you've conquered this?"

Deanna paused to consider the question, staring at the vegetables in front of her. "I don't know," she finally answered honestly. "I don't know if you ever conquer it. I know I'm a lot closer than I was four months ago when I tried to go back to work. I wasn't ready then. I was just too afraid of disappointing people to say it. I know you'll be watching me. You and the captain and Beverly and Worf. And that's good. I know I broke down."

Will reached up and covered Deanna's hand with his own. "Yeah, you did. Once. But think of all the things you've been through when you haven't. All the times you could have broken down and didn't." He smiled at her. " When you look at it that way, you've got to like those odds."

Deanna reveled in the warmth of his touch, and the kind concern in his eyes. She squeezed his hand, but before she could reply, the sound of the communication system broke through.

"Bridge to Counselor Troi." Worf's voice filled the room. "The Dornain delegation is waiting on a secure sub-space channel."

"That was fast," Will murmured.

"Give me just a minute," Deanna called as she stuffed her mouth with a few more bites of her meal and then hastily gulped down some water. She wiped at her mouth as Will grabbed her plate.

"I'll find Batra," he told her as he headed out the door.

"Will," she called after him.

Will paused in the doorway and turned back to where Deanna sat.

"Thank you," she told him.

Will gave her a quick wink before setting off, and before the doors closed, he heard Deanna call to Worf to patch the transmittion through.

….

The two women had talked to, reasoned with and finally begged the Dornain delegation for the better part of the day, but as they each returned home to their quarters, there was still no resolution. The Dornain government was no closer to making a decision than they had been the day the Enterprise had left Ura 5. There was a defeated air about the two of them as they walked the corridors together. It was growing late and there weren't many others walking the corridors to interrupt their sullenness.

"We should enter Galian orbit in a few more hours," Deanna finally broke the silence between them. "Data is calculating the movements of the planetary shield now. He should be in touch with a transport time soon." She waited for Batra to respond, but she only walked on in silence. "Or maybe it will be Commander Riker." Still Batra was silent. "I hope you understand why I will not be accompanying you," Deanna finally offered.

Batra nodded slowly.

"Batra," Deanna sighed, sensing her companion's whirlwind of emotions.

Batra finally turned to her and smiled, a sad hollow smile. "Of course I understand, dear. And, in truth, I wouldn't have it any other way. There is no reason for you to go back, or place yourself in danger. Commander Riker is more than capable of escorting us safely home."

"Then, what is it that's troubling you?" Deanna asked cautiously.

Batra slowed her step, and finally sank down to a bench lining an alcove near her door with a long sigh. She looked up at Deanna, full of doubt. "What would you think of me, if I told you, after all this that you and I have worked for, that I dread going back there?"

Deanna watched as Batra's eyes filled with tears, her pent up emotions finally spilling over. Deanna sat down as well, close to her on the bench and offered what support she could. "I would think that was completely understandable," she told her.

But Batra shook her head. "What kind of person am I? What kind of hypocrite? To ask others to help my people while I wish I could run away?"

"Wanting to be safe is not running away," Deanna answered. "You're world is at war. A desire to run away is a natural instinct to survive."

"And I would leave my husband and son behind? I haven't even spoken to them in three weeks. They could be dead! They could have died before I ever reached Ura 5! And I would not have even grieved for them!" Batra began to weep as Deanna wrapped her in her arms and rocked with her.

When the sobbing quieted, Deanna tried again to offer some sort of comfort. "Or they could be fine," Deanna whispered to her. "And they could be waiting for you to return home to them, you and Shaule."

Batra sniffed, trying to gain control again. But there was pain in her eyes. "What kind of mother am I?" Batra asked in no more than a whisper. "To ask my child to return to the heat of war… to put her in danger… to take her away from an education… That is not what a mother does. A mother protects her child, a mother gives her child a better life!"

"Batra, that is what you are fighting for, a better life -- not just for Shaule or Torvan, but for all the young girls who want an education. You're giving them hope!"

"I don't know that hope is enough," Batra said, wiping at her eyes. "I hope, one day, she can forgive me. Part of me can't bear to take her away for all of this, but a larger part of me can't bear to return without her."

Deanna stroked Batra's mane of black hair reassuringly.

"And in the end, if the Dornain government won't agree… it may have all been for naught," Batra added sadly.

….

Deanna didn't sleep hardly at all that night. It was not for lack of being tired, but the thought of sending Batra and Shaule back to their home world, so emotionally torn and defeated, with aid, but no planetary blockade… it hung heavily over her, like a weight hanging from her neck. It troubled her mind as she tried to rest, even filling her dreams with the kinds of violent nightmares she hadn't had in months.

She didn't blame Batra for wanting to stay. Part of her wished they would. Deanna realized that in a very short time, she would loose touch with Batra and her family. She wouldn't know if they were safe, if they had been discovered, if they were even alive. She may catch a star fleet communication from time to time about how the mission she had advocated so relentlessly for was proceeding, but for all practical purposes, Deanna was moving on with her life. That was what she had wanted. She had accomplished what she had set out to do, at least almost. It was time to let it go now; to turn the fight over to the people it rightfully belonged to. But she couldn't help but feel she had let them down, that she had failed to finish what she started.

Her sleep was fitful, and there was more than one occasion when Deanna laid awake and considered abandoning the idea all together, but she had yet to climb from her bed, when the beeping of her communication system tore her from her dozing.

….

Deanna hurriedly glanced at her chronometer as she terminated the communication an hour later. She knew that Will was beaming down to escort Batra and Shaule back to their village as soon as the gap in the planetary shield opened. It could have been any time now. There was no time for a shower. She frantically scavenged for some clothes to throw on, and pulled her hair back from her face. She grabbed for her communicator, almost franticly.

"Troi to Commander Riker," she called.

"There you are," his voice seemed the epitome of calm. "Shaule was beginning to wonder if you were going to come say good bye."

"Where are you?" she called to him.

"Are you alright?" he answered, concerned.

"Where are you!?" she repeated.

"Transporter room two. Deanna, what's going on?"

"Has the gap in the shield opened?" she asked, rapidly pulling on her shoes.

"It… just did," he answered cautiously. "Dea?" Will could tell she was almost in a panic. "What's going on?"

"How much longer do you have in the transport window?"

"Dea!"

"Will!" she shouted, but it was the captain's voice that responded.

"Eighteen minutes. There's no time for long good byes," he urged her.

"Don't leave until I get there!" Deanna called heading out her door at a run. "Promise me!"

When there was no response, she called out again. "Will! Promise me!"

With a shrug of his shoulders, Will replied. "Okay, we'll wait. But Dea…"

"I'm hurrying! Troi out."

Deanna burst through the doors of the transporter room minutes later, almost gasping from her morning sprint.

Everyone in the room was staring at her wide-eyed, not knowing what to expect.

Batra stepped down form the transporter pad and made her way towards Deanna. "Deanna, dear. What is it?"

Deanna tried to catch her breath, and then her face melted into a smile. "We did it," she almost panted. "You did it," she offered. "Dorn is signing the agreement. The planetary blockade will go into affect in 24 hours."

There was a moment where nothing in the room moved as Batra digested Deanna's words, and then Batra sighed, a deep sigh of relief, of hope.

Deanna threw her arms around her friend and together, they began to cry. Soon, Shaule made her way to their side and Deanna tucked one arm around her and held her close.

Batra finally pulled away and spoke quietly to Deanna. "You have done more for me and my people than anyone could have ever asked of you. More than anyone could have ever expected. Thank you," she said cupping Deanna's face in her hands. "I will take this from you now. Go. Live your life. Be happy. And think of us, from time to time, and know that we treasure you," she told her with tears streaming down her face.

Deanna let her own tears fall unashamed as she hugged her friend once more. "Be safe," she whispered her farewell.

She turned and hugged Shaule as well, the young girl's lips quivering as tears coursed down her cheeks. "Will we ever see you again?" she asked.

Deanna sighed, unsure of what to tell her, but Batra answered calmly.

"When it is safe, we will invite Commander Riker and Deanna to see us, to see the good that they have done. It is not good bye forever, just good bye until it is safe," she told her daughter.

Deanna nodded her agreement. "Your brother will be jealous of your great adventure," Deanna told the girl with a smile, and Shaule began to smile as well. "Remember everything you learned," Deanna whispered as she hugged her for the last time, and then stepped back, to stand next to her captain as Batra and Shaule joined Will again on the transporter pad.

"Have a safe journey," Deanna called to them.

Batra waved her hand in a final farewell, before turning and pulling Shaule's shroud over her and then covering herself with her own.

Deanna looked away from the shrouded females; the sight of it broke her heart. She looked to Will instead, though his skin was more olive and there was a ridge along the back of his hands.

This was the fourth and last time he would beam down to this war zone. He had rescued the ambassador, rescued Deanna, brought Batra and her daughter out safely. Deanna wondered if he was tempting fate to try to make the journey safely again.

_Come back to me,_ Deanna called out, not truly expecting him to hear her inner turmoil.

But Will smiled at her and gave a slight nod. "I'll see you this evening," he said confidently, before turning his attention to his captain and giving him a nod to let him know they were ready.

"Energize," Captain Picard ordered and the three images faded away in front of them.

Deanna didn't move, didn't speak for a long moment, as if she couldn't quite grasp that, just like that, they were gone.

Captain Picard stood quietly by her side, watching her closely. After a long minute, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. "You did very well, Emissary Troi. And I am proud to say that I was once your captain."

Deanna turned to him slowly, to see the hint of a smile on his face. "Are you trying to tell me that you don't want me back, Captain?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. Only that I am honored to be standing here with you."

Deanna felt tears sting at her eyes again, but she tried to blink them away, hoping the captain didn't see. "Thank you, Sir," she told him quietly, reaching out and embracing him quickly.

"I suppose this is the end of a chapter," Captain Picard said, starting out the door into the corridor, Deanna following along.

"Sir?" she asked.

"The end of one story, the beginning of another?" he offered. "Dr. Crusher tells me that you intend to return to duty tomorrow?"

"With your consent, of course," Deanna replied.

"Well, you don't have it."

Deanna stopped short and stared at her captain until he turned to face her, his stern expression fading to a kind smile. "You deserve a rest, don't you think?" he asked her.

"Captain, in all fairness, I have just taken nearly four months of leave. To ask for more would be…"

"A day, then."

"Sir, the flagship of the Federation has been without a counselor of any consistency for practically six months. I think that is long enough, don't you?"

The captain leaned closer to her and spoke kindly. "In that case, I think we might be able to manage one more day for you to rest up a bit. That's an order, by the way."

Deanna put her hands defiantly on her hips. "Until I have medical clearance, I am not technically a member of your crew," she told him, as seriously as she dared.

"In that case, see to it that you report to sickbay immediately so that as soon as you're done, I can then order you to take the day off."

Deanna smiled weakly, glancing back at the transporter room door.

"Closing the door on certain chapters of your life can be more difficult than you would think, isn't it?" he asked her with understanding.

Deanna stared at the transporter room door for another moment before turning back to her captain. "Forgive me, Captain, but when Commander Riker is safely back aboard… _then _it will be over," she told him.

He gave her a small nod of acknowledgement before he set off. "I'll be on the Bridge," he told her. He stopped by her side and again placed his hand on her shoulder. "Well done, Counselor. Well done." And with that, he was off, and Deanna turned and made her way towards Sickbay.

….

Deanna sat quietly at the end of the bed in the main bay. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap while she waited for Beverly Crusher to return. She didn't know why she felt so unsettled. She had no fear of not passing her physical exam, nor did she really think that her anxious feelings were about returning to work. Unlike her last attempt to return to her duties, she felt at ease with herself now, comfortable with both who she was and what had happened to her. So why was it that she couldn't manage to sit still on the edge of the bed?

The image that remained in her mind was Will Riker, smiling at her reassuringly from the transporter pad, with Batra and Shaule behind him, covered in black shrouds. Was it concern for her new friends? Yes, of course. She would feel that deep concern for some time to come. But that didn't explain the nagging emptiness inside her.

Suddenly, Deanna almost jumped, as if she had startled herself. It was Will! He was gone. She couldn't sense him at all, not even a vague recollection. It was like he had disappeared from her mind.

Deanna frantically reached out to Will in whatever way she could, concentrating intensely, but it was no use. There was nothing there to reach. Deanna felt her adrenalin start to pump through her veins. What if something had happened to them? What if Will was hurt, or worse, and that is why she felt nothing. Maybe there was nothing to sense.

With a deep calming breath, she realized that it could be a hundred other reasons. The planetary shield could be blocking her sensory perception in some way. Distance never helped either. But something in her would simply not relax. She was so close to the end. She had come so far. All she needed was for Will to come home safely. Then she could finally stop looking back and begin to look forward again.

"Alright, Counselor," Beverly said with a smile as she walked towards her across the bay. "You are fit as a fiddle, as far as I'm concerned." Beverly found her friend looking strained. "Deanna? Is everything alright?"

Deanna tried to shake off her anxiety and smiled to her friend. "I'm fine, Beverly. I promise."

Beverly watched her skeptically and Deanna hung her head in shame. She reached out and took her friend's hand. "I'm worried about Will," Deanna confessed. "I just want him back aboard and this whole business to be over with," Deanna told her sincerely, hoping she understood.

Beverly watched her closely for a minute more, and then slowly nodded her head. "I can understand that," she finally admitted.

Deanna realized that this was the way it was going to have to be, with her friends watching her, even second-guessing her. She needed to accept the consequences of her actions. "Beverly," she finally told her friend. "I don't think I ever told you that I'm sorry."

Beverly looked at her, confused.

"For what I did, for the position I put you in," Deanna continued. "It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. I abused your trust, and I hope, in time, you can forgive me."

"Oh, Deanna…"

"I mean it Beverly. I am sorry, and I'll do whatever I can to make it right."

Beverly stood staring at her friend who she had missed so dearly, looking at her with her dark round eyes, looking for some sign of forgiveness. "You don't need to apologize to me," Beverly told her sincerely. "I let you down. I should have known, should have been there to help you more --"

Deanna just shook her head at her friend. "You can't even just let me say sorry," she told her sarcastically.

"I forgive you," Beverly told her simply and without condition.

"I'm not asking for unconditional forgiveness," Deanna protested.

"Well, that's too bad. You already have it," Beverly told her with determination. Her harsh expression dissolved into a smile and the two women hugged each other.

"So, Counselor, in your professional opinion," Beverly asked taking a step back. "Are you ready to return to duty?"

Deanna gave her a thoughtful smile. "I believe that I am," she told her. "More than that, I _want_ to."

"In that case, congratulations. You are now an official member of the Enterprise crew."

Deanna jumped down from the bed and hugged her friend again. "Thank you Beverly. I'm so glad I have you."

….

Beverly took Deanna to a celebratory lunch, though Deanna had a feeling it was more to keep her mind off of where Will was and how much longer until he would be back. It was a nice distraction, but Deanna still had plenty to do that day.

"Ah, Counselor," the captain called as he approached her in the corridor on her way back to her office for the first time in months. "I thought I told you to take a day off."

"You actually told me to take tomorrow off, Captain. And I have every intention of following your orders. But for now, I thought I ought to peek into my office."

"To make sure it is as you left it?" he asked curiously.

Deanna sighed and decided to give voice to the fear. "More to make sure it isn't how I left it. Or perhaps that I'm not how I last left it." Deanna watched as the captain gave an understanding nod. "Is there something I can do for you Captain?"

"No, I just wanted to tell you myself. The planet has reset its shield harmonics, much as it did when you beamed in last. In fact, because of that, Data has been able to detect a pattern. The gap in the shielding will not open again for five more hours. He won't be back aboard until late this evening." The captain paused and studied her for a moment. "I didn't want you to be worried," he concluded.

"Thank you, Captain. That was very kind of you," Deanna answered. "I'll try my best to keep myself occupied."

"I'm sure that won't be hard to do," Captain Picard admitted. "There are many people who have greatly missed you. You passed you physical?"

"With flying colors," Deanna responded as the two began to walk together.

"And you want to do this, yes?" he asked cautiously.

Deanna looked to her office door and back to her captain. "More than you know, Sir. I am ready to move on with my life, finally."

"Finally?" he asked curiously.

"It took me a while to get here," she told him honestly.

"Well," the captain said, pulling on his tunic. "I, for one, am very glad you made it. Good evening Counselor," he told her as he headed off about his business.

….

By late evening, Deanna was finding it harder to distract herself from the anxious lonely feeling that had haunted her most of the day. She was counting the hours until Will should be back on the ship. She tried to relax, even took a long hot bath, but all that churned in her mind was what had happened to Batra and Shaule and their family, what Will must be thinking as he waited on the planet, and all the things that were left unsaid between the two of them.

After all these years, so much was left unresolved, unacted upon. Deanna tried to focus on all of the emotions that ran through her about Will Riker. What would she say to him if he were standing before her right now? What was it she wanted? Was it possible? Would it really work? If the crisis were over, and everyday life were all that were left, would this journey they had taken together, and the emotions that had followed them, would they see them through? She knew the answer, had known it for a while now. Will loved her, and she loved him. It was time to move forward together. It was time, before there was some next thing to interfere. She had pushed him away for the last time. All she needed was for Will to come home. She _needed_ Will to come home.

Deanna dressed and tried to distract herself for the several more hours until he would be back on the ship. She reviewed her waiting patient load then cleaned her closet, but nothing could take her attention away from the constant searching her mind was doing, looking for that unique sensation in her head that was Will Riker. It was as if something was pulling her, wanting to fill the hole that his absence had left in her soul.

Where was he? Was he safe? Was he waiting? Nervous? Was he in danger? Was he thinking of her? Wanting to finally come home to her?

After a couple of hours of rooting around her quarters, Deanna walked to her desk, and for the first time since leaving the therapy center, picked up the leather bound book of poems by Robert Frost that the captain had given her. The binding had become slightly worn, and tended to fall open to the works that had spoken to her soul the most. She curled up on her couch and read, letting the emotions of the last few months flood over her for the last time before she finally filed them away and moved forward.

At first the poetry was enough to distract her, but as her emotions eased away, she was left feeling drained and empty.

On an impulse Deanna leapt from her couch and, with her book tucked under her arm, made her way to Will Riker's quarters. She thought, perhaps, the proximity to his belongings, his life, would be enough to fill the hole inside her until he could make his way back to her. Deanna keyed in her security code and smiled as the doors slipped open in front of her. She planted herself in the middle of his couch, sitting cross-legged and returned to her poetry. She read for a while longer, until the lonely feeling came back to her.

Deanna slowly closed the book of poetry and began to pace through his quarters. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to be there when he walked through those doors. She didn't want to wait anymore. She wanted to tell him exactly what she was feeling, wanted to hold him and touch him, even if it were just to prove that the long nightmare was over and that he was back, safe and sound.

After staring at the planet for a while from the window, Deanna wandered into Will's bedroom. There was a tee shirt lying on the bottom of the bed, and the sheets were unmade. Deanna shook her head at his slothenly behavior. Could she learn to live with it, she wondered. Deanna put the book on the bottom of the bed and began straitening the room. When she grabbed the shirt, to put it in the reclaimer, she realized that it was the first thing to make Will feel closer. It smelled like him.

At first she was content to hold it in her lap, then it was resting on her chest as she laid in the center of his bed. Finally she gave in and, looking around, as if someone might be watching her, Deanna pulled her shirt off over her head and pulled the loose shirt on in its place. The sensation of him filled her as she wrapped herself in it. For another hour, Deanna sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed -- waiting.

"Computer," she finally called. "When is Commander Riker expected to return to the Enterprise?" she asked as she bounced her knees, trying to keep the feeling in her legs.

"Unknown," the computer answered.

"Could you notify me when he beams aboard?"

"Affirmative," the computer answered unemotionally.

Deanna sighed as she laid back on the bed. She was so tired. If she could just let go of the anxiety, she could have slept for hours. It was nearing 11:00 hours. The computer would let her know when he was back safely. It wouldn't hurt to just close her eyes for a minute.

….

Deanna awoke to the beep of the computer. She jumped off the bed, pulling at the large tee shirt that was pooled around her, and briskly hit the computer controller.

"Commander Riker has returned to the Enterprise," the computer announced.

Deanna looked around her at Will's bedroom. "Ahhh," she sighed as she closed her eyes in a moment of gratitude. For the first time that day, she felt peace. The sense of him seeped back into her and finally, she felt whole. She straightened the sheets where she had fallen asleep, and took a seat, next to her book of poetry at the end of his bed. And she waited…and waited.

After half an hour, she couldn't think straight. "Computer, locate Commander Riker."

"Commander Riker is in Sickbay."

Deanna leapt from her place on the bed. Was he hurt? Wounded? "Troi to Sickbay," Deanna called, desperately trying to calm herself. She felt no pain from him, no distress.

"This is Nurse Ogowa. Counselor, how can I help you?"

Deanna sighed, happy to hear a familiar voice. "Alyssa, is Beverly in Sickbay?" Deanna asked.

"No, Ma'am. She finished her shift hours ago. Can I help you with something?"

"Maybe," Deanna admitted. "Alyssa, is Commander Riker in Sickbay?"

"Yes."

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing happened, Ma'am. Dr. Selar is removing his surgical implants and reversing the skin pigmentation. Should I tell him that you're looking for him?"

"No!" Deanna spoke too quickly. "No, no. It's nothing. Thank you, Alyssa."

"My pleasure. Good night Counselor."

"Goodnight," Deanna mumbled as she took her seat back on the bed. And waited.

….

Will Riker was exhausted as he walked through the corridors towards home and his bed. He rubbed his hand along his beard as he walked, just trying to make sure he was himself again. The doors opened in front of him, and without so much of a glance at the rest of his home, he headed to bed. As he stepped into his bedroom, he paused.

There, in the relative darkness, Deanna Troi, lay diagonally across his bed, curled on her side, asleep.

For the briefest moment, he wondered if he was so tired that he had walked into the wrong quarters, but with a quick glance around, he saw his trombone, his furniture and possessions. The thing that was out of place was the sleeping woman, that, he realized as he stepped closer to her, was wearing the shirt he had worn the night before.

"She made the bed," he chuckled to himself, as he watched her sleep. He stepped toward the bed and leaned closer to her. "Deanna?" he said, loud enough to wake her.

Deanna jumped and struggled to sit up, still a bit groggily. "Will," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes.

"Hi," he said brightly. "Did you get lost?" he asked her.

Deanna knelt on the bed, as he sat next to her. "No, I'm sorry. I just-- I wanted to talk to you when you got back, but it's late."

"Deanna," Will reached out and kept her from moving away from him. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Batra and Shaule?" Deanna asked.

"Home safe and sound. The militia has made some good strides in the hills in the last few weeks." Will told her softly.

"And her husband?"

"Gault and Torvan were there waiting for us. It was a very happy family reunion." Will reached up and brushed some hair back from Deanna's face. "I'm sorry you missed it."

"And the aid package?"

"Batra will be meeting with the first group tomorrow. She'll be ready for it. Gault has been working on a network of contacts among the resistance."

"So…it's over?" Deanna asked, her voice choking on tears as she looked into his eyes.

Will couldn't stop himself from touching her face, caressing her cheek and wiping away the single tear that escaped her eyes. "It's over," he whispered. "You did it, Deanna. You made a huge difference. It's over," he repeated as Deanna both smiled and cried at the same time.

Will pulled Deanna to him and let her cry against his chest. "Shhh," he assured her. "It's okay. Shhh," he told her rubbing her arms.

Deanna pulled away and wiped at her eyes. "I don't know why I'm crying," she told him, and suddenly she began to laugh quietly to herself. "It's over," she said quietly with a sigh, as she wrapped her hands around his neck.

Will watched her closely and nodded. For a long moment, the two of them sat like that, staring into one another's eyes. Will was hoping that if he looked hard enough, he would be able to tell why she was there. But all he seemed to see was what appeared to be Deanna gathering her courage.

"Deanna?" he asked quietly.

"Thank you," she told him. "I couldn't have done it without your help and support."

"I'd do it all again," he smiled at her. "Anything you need."

"Will," Deanna began shyly. "I don't want to push you away anymore. It's over, and I want to come home."

"I can walk you home if you want," Will told her, a bit confused.

Deanna shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Not a place," she told him. She was not explaining herself nearly as well as she'd planned. "Just kiss me," she told him, giving up on verbal communication.

Will smiled at her before he gently kissed her cheek, then her eye and the tip of her nose, listening closely to the sound of Deanna's breathing. He paused, hovering over her lips. He didn't know if he was hesitating to make the moment better, or if he was just giving her every opportunity to change her mind.

He had promised himself that the next time would be it…that he was all in or not in at all. He wouldn't toy with her, or lie to her, or use her. He wouldn't risk loosing the friendship they had unless he was sure. And he was sure, had been since the last time that he was with her. The only question left was, was she sure?

He didn't have an answer for that as he watched her, centimeters from her lips as she looked back at him with wide eyes. Then those eyes filled with doubt. "Will?" she asked tentatively.

"Maybe we should talk it through this time," he suggested, mostly against his better judgment. He could even hear the disappointment in his own voice as he eased away from her.

Deanna sat in the middle of the bed, trying to look as calm as she could. "Okay," she said with a nod of her head. It was the moment of truth, now or never. "I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you. I'm not perfect," she admitted, "and I have some baggage, but I want to be with you. I want this to work. I want you," she told him with determination. "I choose you."

Will sat on the edge of the bed in silence trying to take in everything she had said, hoping that she meant it.

"Your turn," she urged him.

Will just couldn't stop staring. It was like admiring a piece of art.

"Will?"

With one movement, he was at her side, wrapping her in his arms as he kissed her. They fit together like no one else he had ever been with. The things she did to him, the way she touched him, that sensation he only had with her as that tickle in his mind, that essence of Deanna seeped into him.

"I choose you," he whispered in her ear as his hands tangled in her hair, and he eased her back onto the bed.

The embers that had been stomped out or ignored for so long roared back to life as they kissed and touched every piece of each other they could reach. Will sighed as her hands eased over his shoulders and caressed the back of his neck. She moaned softly as he nuzzled her neck. The feel of her skin sent a shiver through him, and he wanted nothing more than to engulf himself in it.

Deanna arched her back, curving into him as he ran his hands under her, slipping them under the shirt she wore. His warm hands settled along the curve of her back. "Mmhh," she moaned as she nibbled on his ear.

The touch of her skin was nice, but he wanted more. He wanted all of her, but he tried to slow himself down. He managed pretty well, until Deanna started pulling at his collar, trying to pry more flesh for her to kiss and tease. Fair was fair after all.

Will pulled Deanna up with him and pushed his hands under the fabric of the shirt she wore, lifting it from her skin as his hands rubbed their way up her stomach, over the sides of her breasts, teasing at the fabric of her bra and then in one motion, up and over her head.

He threw the garment away carelessly, and kissed her hard, plunging his tongue insistently into her mouth, moving his hands back to the bra that still separated his hands from her flesh.

The sound of a loud thud caught their attention, and, for a moment, they pulled apart to see what had caused the noise. Will peered over the edge of the bed, where, sprawled on the floor was the shirt he had thrown, tangled in the cover of a book, a leather bound book, that had fallen from the foot of his bed. The pages lay open to words he didn't have to read to recognize. The handwriting was clear.

_The captain,_ Will thought as his mind flooded with memories of an old promise as well as what he had repeated only a few months ago. It was like a bucket of ice water had just been poured over his head.

Deanna was, once again, a member of the Enterprise crew. They would work together every day, no matter what was about to happen here. And he had made a promise to his captain, to his mentor, that if their relationship was to change…

Will hung his head as he looked back at this amazing woman, propped on her elbows, wearing black exercise pants and a deep blue satin bra. Deanna looked at him concerned, clearly aware of the change in his mood.

"Don't move," he told her, crawling backwards off the bed.

"What?" she asked, almost laughing as if he must be joking.

"I'll be right back. I swear!"

Deanna tilted her head to one side and scowled. "You're kidding, right?"

Will let out a small huff. What was he doing walking away from this?

"Just don't move, don't take anything off… I don't want to miss anything!" he pleaded as he straightened his shirt. "I'll be right back!"

"Will!" he heard Deanna call exasperated as he headed out the door, but he didn't turn back. It wouldn't take much convincing for him to forget about his promise all together.

He hadn't paid much attention to what time it was as he strode through the nearly empty ships corridors and rang the chime on the captain's door. He realized how late it was when there was no answer. _Oh well, I tried,_ Will shrugged. _Good enough._ He turned to walk away when the doors opened.

"Number One," Captain Picard sounded a bit confused, but not nearly as upset as Will feared he might be. "You made it back safely."

Will turned back to face his captain. "Yes, Sir. I apologize for the intrusion. It's late."

"I trust the away mission was uneventful?" the captain speculated.

"Yes, Sir. Batra and Shaule are back in their village. Her husband and son were there to greet them."

"So all went well then," the captain said with a nod. "Good."

The two men stood in the doorway tentatively watching the other.

"Is there something else, Commander?" Captain Picard finally asked.

Will glanced around, uncomfortably. "It's more of a personal matter, Sir."

Without another word, the captain gestured for Will to come inside. He pointed to a chair, and Will sat down obediently.

"Can I offer you some tea?" Captain Picard asked as he moved towards his replicator.

Will gave a short nod. "Thank you, Sir," he answered.

In all honesty, Will didn't really care for tea, and the captain knew that, which meant two things; one, that Will Riker was so nervous, he needed something, anything to fidget with, and two, Captain Picard was so uncomfortable that he couldn't come up with anything else to say to him.

The captain handed him a cup and sat down on his couch, his own cup in his hand.

Will wondered for a moment if the captain may have been sleeping, but then he noticed the book on the table between them and thought it was far more likely that he had been readying. He sighed a bit in relief.

"So," the captain broke the silence. "Let's have it."

Will looked from the captain, to the book to his own cup of tea as he tried to come up with the right words. "Sir, eight years ago, I made you a promise." Will let the words hang in the room, hoping the captain would take it from there.

"You have promised me many things over the years, Number One."

Will sighed. "About Deanna," he clarified.

The captain's eyebrows slowly rose in recognition of the situation, then relaxed again as he sipped his tea. "I assume you are here to tell me that things have changed?" he asked.

"That's my intention, Sir."

"And her intention?" the captain asked.

"I think she feels the same."

The captain nodded, silently sipping on his tea, his mind churning. "And have either of you given any thought to how this will affect your work, or this ship?" His tone was not angry, but it was stern.

"I believe in our ability to separate our personal lives from our professional positions. If you disagree, or there are things that concern you…"

"A few," the captain answered honestly. "I think the appearance of impropriety can be a powerful thing. I don't know how you intend to address this relationship, but if I were to have a say, which I don't, I would prefer a practice of full disclosure."

"Understood, Sir." Will bit back his impulse to say '_I'm here, aren't I_'.

"There are some lines of command that would need to be clarified to avoid any…improper…" the captain shrugged.

"I understand, Sir."

The captain put his tea down on the table and leaned back with a heavy sigh. "Could you afford me the opportunity to address you not as your captain for a moment?" he asked.

Will nodded.

"Do you think she's ready for this?" he asked simply.

Will shrugged. "I don't know, Sir. I think so."

"Are you?" he asked.

Will chuckled under his breath. "I hope so," he sighed. He looked back to his captain more seriously. "I am going to give it every effort."

"Good. See that you do." Captain Picard paused for a moment. "Will, I would hate to see her hurt. She has been hurt enough."

"I have no intention of hurting her, Sir. I love her. I want to make her happy," Will answered. "And if I'm not doing a good enough job at it, I have no doubt that you and Beverly and Worf will…encourage… me to improve."

The captain smiled in spite of himself, seeming to finally relax a bit. He swung one leg over the other, resting his hand on his knee. "You know, Number One, when I was…well, younger than I am now, the idea of marrying, settling down, it seemed completely foreign, that it would forever alter my way of life. I couldn't imagine it. But then I watched my dear friend. He had it all. A beautiful wife who adored him, a son, a career… It made me wonder if I had it all wrong." The captain paused, seeming to stare at something that wasn't there. "And then it was all gone. Just like that, and I wonder if he ever appreciated the amazing good fortune that he enjoyed. Or did he take it for granted… do we all take it a bit for granted."

Will realized that moments like this with his captain were not exactly common, and the last thing he wanted to do was seem rude, but all he could picture was Deanna sitting on his bed, wondering what in the world was going on. He almost squirmed in his seat, wondering how to tell his captain he needed to go.

"Is something the matter, Number One?" the captain asked.

Will sighed. "No, Sir. It's just--" he fidgeted a bit more. "It's just that Deanna is sitting in my quarters, probably wondering what the hell is going on."

The captain's eyes flew open wide. Then he rolled them in frustration. "Go," he told him motioning for him to leave. "Just go."

Will stood, trying to find some way to say thank you and I'm sorry at the same time.

"And you should take tomorrow off. You two could use some time to _talk_ some things out."

"Thank you, Sir. But Deanna is back to full duty tomorrow."

"Actually, I ordered her to take the day. And I'll do the same for you. Not that mighty buildings can be built in a day, but you might at least set down a good foundation."

"Yes, Sir," Will said, smiling gratefully.

"Oh, and Commander," the captain called as Will headed towards the door. "The next time I give you an order this personal…feel free to take it a little less literally."

Will chuckled again. "I was trying to be honest and forthright!"

The captain shook his head and motioned again. "Go," he told him, and Will took him at his word.

He tried not to skip with joy, or run with over eager excitement as he made his way back to his quarters, his mind dancing with images of Deanna waiting for as he came in the door and rounded the corner to his room, his heart sank. "Damn," he whined.

Deanna lay snuggled under his covers, his shirt visible on her body between the comforter and her loose curls.

This was not the way this was supposed to go. Will inched up to the bed. "Deanna," he whispered, hoping that she would wake up. But he knew she wouldn't. She was sleeping deeply by now. He kneeled on the edge of the bed and lifted a curl from the side of her face. "Dea," he called a little louder.

"Mmmhh," she hummed contentedly, rolling onto her side, to cuddle.

Will sat down on the side of the bed with a bit of a thud. "This is the longest play of my life," he muttered as he took off his shoes. He watched her sleep as he undressed. He couldn't help but smile, not just because of the way she looked so comfortable in his bed, but the thought that this was just the beginning, the first of many mornings they would wake up together.

He slipped into the bed next to her and pulled the covers tightly around them both. Deanna snuggled up close to him with another contented sigh. Will kissed her hair. "I love you, Deanna Troi," he whispered, wrapping her in his arms.

"Mmhh, love you," she muttered tucking her head under his chin.

He'd waited two weeks, and then six months before that, and ten years before that. He could wait a little longer. There was something familiar and extraordinarily comfortable about being in each other's arms. It felt like -- coming home.


End file.
